Grounding

Sodalite,
Smooth and fitted to my palm,
I hold this tight in my hand,
Anchoring my concerns in this small stone,
To lighten my own vessel,
To smooth over jagged edges of anxiety,
That lights like struck flint, within my core,
Breathing,
Soft, cool air streams through passages,
Into my being,
A worried heart slows in pace,
Patient breaths repeat,
Palm still cradling stone,
My mouth opens
And words sheltered in the cavern of throat
Carefully, thoughtfully, tenderly escape,
My belly pushes forth these sounds in composite form,
As fingers swirl around a hard stone base-
Not visible to my own eye,
But dark blue, brown, and black with delicate lines of white, in memory
From this space, I pull my strength,
Am reminded of my connection to the Earth,
To the interconnected web of existence,
I am made steady,
To pull from myself what I long to communicate;
Grounded,
I am strong.

Ends Meet

Where our ends meet
We recognize each other, 
I to I,
Eye to eye, 
We mirror,
We perceive the other,
To understand, 
To recognize,
To accept,
To appreciate 
Each other, 
Sharing our intimate thoughts,
As if they are our own,
With clarity, we separate 
But know we shall again return, 
To this sacred connection,
For despite interruption
We are one;
our ends meet.

Precious

9/6/18

It may have been safe,
Well prepared,
Well packaged,
But somewhere in
Transmission
It can be so easily
Contaminated,
So easily compromised,
Intentionally,
And, or
Unintentionally,
And so in trusting anything
We maintain a level of
Skepticism,
Of caution,
We want to believe
So much,
Blindly,
But we are wired
This way,
To doubt,
To safeguard
Your most precious
Things.