Drum on, Change Change is the percussion of our lives. Its steady beat is predictable in the same way a river flows, carving a new bed for itself from the silt. While comforting, frightening, the beat moves on. Dancing, marching in chains, or ignored altogether, it drums on. Listen to the beat, feel it inside you. Change is ever- lasting enjoy its curves and spins. Gyrate to your own rhythm. Bump your hips up against it like a familiar friend hearing your favorite song. Grab your inner tube and jump into the river of change in your life. Another Beautiful Day! The air is calming as I rest on my wicker sofa. I pause watching and listening to the sounds and sights of my backyard. The beauty of the morning—frogs croaking, birds chirping, the air conditioner humming-- all take residence in my ear. Oh, how I love the sounds of the forest and the life within it beyond my property line. The glory of a new day’s light glimmers on the mossy green lawn, somewhat unkempt, a little bit wild where the weed- eater has not been. Around the trunks of live and fallen trees, thick patches stand, ever-reaching toward the sky.
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Steps in the Arena of Vulnerability
Inspired by Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly and Theodore Roosevelt’s “Man in Arena” The light of lies we tell ourselves. The prison doors we shut in our own faces. The lives we deny ourselves, afraid of fear, second chances. We risk ourselves to face a crowd chanting “boo”! Subjecting our dreams to the light of reality. I understand now that the darer of dreams is fear that must be overcome, unfed by cowardice. Living small, away from others’ eyes and harsh words in Spectatorsville, where dreams—if dreamt at all-- are never realized, only talked about as if they were some old pastime too far gone. Like publishing my first poetry collection, it seems too uncomfortable, too vulnerable to trust myself, receive the help I need, and know the difference. To read my own words marked up and changed by another’s keystrokes. Then decide what stays, goes, and evolves. Maintaining who I was when I wrote the poems, while adhering to my current values. This process confronts me with my perfectionism. My limiting beliefs that say I am not good enough, nobody buys poetry, my poems are not adequate, and I didn’t get the best aid. Yet here I am. Sitting on some lofty goal, not daring to get up to remove its creases from being crushed, hidden, forgotten. No! Now is the time to rise up, dust off, and grab hold. Get out of the stands, and dare myself to enter my circle of dreams. Quiet Morning Revival Here I am unabashed in a lyrical song of a time long gone. A heart swells beneath my chest beat, beat, beat. Let it pour out onto me, the freedom of life well spent in the simple quiet of sleeping babes, no wrong turn, no perfect end. The only quiet I engage. Wash me with energy for a good day. Let me lie down in your soft sheets and warm embrace. Let not the stolen time be taken in the night. Rise, morning, rise.
To buy the eBook version of Present Peace click the button to below or go to Amazon. The paperback format of Present Peace is now available for purchase on Amazon.
In honor of National Poetry Month, I have joined NaPoWriMo, a poetry writing challenge to write a poem a day, see www.napowrimo.net/about/ for more information. I will be posting poetry on my blog each week. Starting with a selection of 11 poems from debut collection Present Peace to post on my blog as a preview for my book that you can buy here or on Amazon.
Since it is the start of the Christmas season, I would like to open with a poem I wrote last year when I was sitting in a hair salon enjoying the holiday decorations in the shop. It was simple, but it reminded me of how beautiful and joyful the season is if we are able to connect with it. Sometimes that connection gets clouded with the things we have to do or buy. Consumerism dominates this time of giving. While gift giving is an important element of this time of year, I wanted to remind myself that the gifts are not at the heart of the season. The act of giving is so huge. Christmas represents for me a time of forgiveness, love and of course giving. Okay here is where I am going to delve into Christianity briefly. Jesus to me represents all of those things, but most of all forgiveness which has to come from a place of love. Loving those that have hurt me is not an easy task. This is not a romantic love, instead it originates from feeling a deep connection to all of humanity. Wonderful concepts like these are trenched into this time of year, but with all that is going on it is easy to forget them.
The Gift of Christmas Into the clouds of Christmas shrouded by belief or non-belief. I choose belief. In what? Love, giving and forgiveness. Christmas Carols bring me warmth in cozy blankets, cocoa and garland. The magic of the season encourages laughter, hustle and jingles. Decorations adorn shops, homes and public places. Spirit of giving contorted into consumerism set a fire. It's easy to get wrapped up in stress, chatter, trimmings and false clauses. Santa's magic is not found in those. Birth of forgiveness breeds redemption and hope to turn a leaf tomorrow of a place I've never been. It may not be physical to be new and freeing. Opening my heart to renew in goals of life found through back doors. Joy abounds in this season if I let it. No fear. Be grateful and lean into joy. The gift of giving is greater than the paper wrapped present. Merry Christmas!! by Cynthia Schaefer |
AuthorI write poetry to connect to myself and the world around me. My vision for my work is to help others appreciate the beauty of the space and time they are in now. Archives
July 2025
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