Anxiety
sits in my shoulders
like a bird
without wings
watching
the approach of winter.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Nestled in the nook of the window,
a moth,
sheltered
between concrete and wood.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Watching a man
sandblast a building –
cleaning one level,
dirtying the next.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
The wind makes ships out of balconies –
canvas and tarpaulin flapping,
plant heads creaking and snapping;
blowing everything – sadness, anger;
fear, frustration… away.
Like my head –
barely tethered, overly weathered;
subject to a disco of light too bright
for one with so many years.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
A misunderstanding turns what should
have been special into something plain
and the associated pain hurts more
than I care to describe.
I stare at the window and will
what is real into something else,
replacing what is
with what I would like.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Things keep breaking inside my house
and I seem to spend every spare moment fixing them.
I seek comfort in a warm cup,
my bed, and the gentle rhythm
of two needles going clickety clack.
Slowly nothing becomes substance
until eventually a blanket appears.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Reacquainting with old friends,
I stand confused,
unsure of who I am greeting,
twin locks of gold spinning before my eyes,
almost identical in nature.
And yet, there is a discrepancy –
of gender, of age –
if only I could see fit to figuring it out.
Picking my words carefully,
I say ‘hello’ from a distance,
one step removed,
waiting for those on the other side
to take the lead.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Leaving your apron
I move away from
the reach of kitchen knives.
In the corner
my father sits
silent.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
This Ole House song lyrics.
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Pulling, cutting, carving.
Holes in pale white skin.
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Lord,
My heart aches and feels hollow. Inside, there is such grief. Please lend me your arms to hide in in my hour of need. And after, you shoulders to hold my fears. And then your lap, like a basket, to cradle my tears.
Help me to let go of all that is trapped and broken, to fix it piece by piece. Help me to confront all that I am afraid of and in doing so find peace.
Open my eyes to beauty, my soul to sound. Awaken all my senses to the world that surrounds.
Guide me towards a better outlook and quality of life: one that is still and centred, and free from strife.
Show me how to release the past so that I might move on. Show me how to embrace the future so that I can belong.
Turn my attention inward, away from material things. Give me the strength to allow the feelings introspection brings.
Let me love myself as I love others. Let me myself forgive. Show me how to receive as well as how to live.
Love me like a father, guide me like a sage; stand by me as I walk into a future of knowledge and age.
Teach me to live freely. Permit me to yearn. And when the void beckons, help me to learn.
Give me roots to stand on and branches to stretch. Give me buds to nurture and seeds to collect.
Give me leaves to shed and flowers to release. Give me water to drink and air to breathe.
Give me birdsong to dance to and company to share. Give me shade in darkness and space in air.
Give me peace in body and comfort in mind. Give me strength in soul so that I might find the land that I dream of, the people I miss, the place that I belong to and the purpose of this.
Amen
by Rebecca L. Atherton
To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.
Rebecca L. Atherton 