Contentment

I looked outside directly into color. Joy
popped in for a visit --- contentment was given to me immediately and graciously and I was able to accept it, to take it in, to swallow it whole. Nagging depression moved off stage as beauty met me at the door and we waltzed appreciatively into color and the scent of English roses. This moment of transformative delight --- how do I savor it, save it, keep it always? Perhaps the answer is to let its vibration dissolve within my cells and I'll be changed forever.

A Frozen Lake

Depression is a frozen lake where
feelings forget soft and warm and
skip upon the ice like pebbles tossed
in the sadness of joy lost.

Coming out of depression
thoughts of clarity missed before
float to the top beneath icy mirror
reflecting a wisdom of essential core.

Swimming up towards coming out
I hold my breath in anticipation and
touch the edge of light with intention
reaching from the endless cold.

Underneath ice shows sunlit streaks
of yellow, a bit of orange and
lilac splotches with blue while
white light lies within all colors new.

Return to joy as frozen fissures release
and someone dances up the wall
having traded stuck for the
roving rhythm of rhyme.

 

Front yard flower

I am emerging from stuck
between the cracks of groundlessness
upon which I walk. Totally boxed in
my head could not swivel
not look to the right or left.
Legs ached body hurt stuck
totally there. Always, ALWAYS
when this happens I know that it
too, like joy, is impermanent.
I seek refuge in the same
substance that traps me--
all is temporary.

So, I would assume that this // and here the record stops. There has been a shift in the ground, in the thoughts that entrap mind. The air clears. My head can look up, now--can see crystal blue, can hear morning sounds of dove, finch and cardinal. Once free from stuck there is only the push forward. And just look what I found in my own front garden!

Depression is a frozen lake

Depression is a frozen lake
   where feelings forget soft and warm
   and skip upon the ice like pebbles tossed
   in soundless sadness of joy lost.
Coming out of depression
   thoughts of clarity missed before
   float to top beneath icy mirror
   reflecting wisdom of essential core.
Swimming up toward coming out
   I hold my breath in anticipation
   that the edge of light will lead to
   full warmth far from endless cold.
Underneath ice shows sunlit streaks
   of yellow, gray, a bit of orange and
   splotches of lilac and blue as white
   light lies within all colors new.
Return to joy as frozen fissures let go
   and someone dances up the wall
   having traded stuck for the
   roving rhythm of rhyme. 

http://www.wordlayers.com/Drepression.htm 

Atticus

I haven't posted to this blog in over a month because I've been blue. I guess I can think of depression as a part, only a part, of who I am. The other parts of me are living an honest life and seeing the good. This is my grandson, Atticus at five. No matter the sourness of my mood nothing in me is blue when I look at Atticus on skates.