a letter (to myself)

so you have dropped 

your shield 

of plastic of red and blue

& timid fists 

running away from the loud-mouths

in the playground

it was more pathetic in school

when no one wanted to play 

with you during recess time

you

speaking with a different tongue

growing up in a different part of the country

to them, you were a strange, foreign sounding girl

who hid in the library & empty classrooms-

a wild flower, with easily-trampled upon

petals

that time is done

i tell you now, that time will pass

like tides

people & events change all the time, 

what you didn't know was that

every insult & hurtful words

toughened your skin and gritted your teeth

as you grew up 

as an adult 

as a mother of your village

your voicebox became stronger 

everyday

you pick positive thoughts & vase them

on your table

you fly your flags & keep your boundaries

some days, you wish you are holding that

small shield - plastic of red and blue -

as if it was an amulet, armor or a sword

but then you remind yourself,

you've have made a shield over time-

its called self-love

self-care

self-respect

it's a river, all flowing 

within you

Posted for dVerse Poets pub - Handling Peer Pressure, hosted by Sanaa Rizvi.  The idea came to me when we gifted my grandson a plastic Captain America shield.   He was very happy to get it like it was a powerful real shield.   For myself, I am now able to handle any peer pressure.  It comes with time & a lot of experiences.  Thanks for your visits and comments.  

Just a note that dVerse will be going on a 2 week summer break and that we will be back on July 11.   

Spawning the river

I.

When I am thirsty
I travel to drink in
This river of words –
Sun is ink, stones are parchment
I grow fins and kelp
Writing fishy tales    

II.

When I am in despair
I jog down to the river
Tasting sadness, chewing its edges
Swallowing bone and liver,
I wash it down with the blessings of trees
And leave, on river’s belly,
Single red feather

III.

When my tongue is dry
With crackers and oats
I go to the river to wash
Wildflowers are soap
Mushroom and moss are towels
Grit falls away, I am pink with lilies

Posted for D'verse poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments. 

Red River

I run through heart of the land, muddy, brackish, moving birch canoes, from dawn to dusk.    


i hang a red dress 
its folds billowing spiritual dance 

along grainy shores  
forked by roots of ancient trees 
i burn sagebrush

and i

count the years passing
of voices forever silenced 
stolen sisters, missing daughters-

only heartbeat of river remains-

I crawl with broken bones, washing away blood, footprints, sun-scarred skin under dark moon.   

Based on BBC's Red River Women

Each year, dozens of Canadian Aboriginal women are murdered or disappear never to be seen again. Some end up in a river that runs through the heart of Winnipeg.

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics:  The River, hosted by guest host, Paul Dear.   And Happy World Poetry Day!   Thanks for the visit ~

Simple beauty of nature

I live and work in the city most of my life.   So it is a challenge to catch and gaze on nature’s beauty when you are surrounded by roads, cars, noise, concrete sidewalks and buildings.  

The times I am able to catch a sunset or walk around the park or lake, are infrequent and few.   So it is a real blessing when I am able to, and just let the moment of solitude and peace seep into my mind and body.    

Nature speaks without saying anything ~ are we listening?

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.” ~ Anne Frank

Picture Credit:   Agarkov Anton