by terrisearstherapy | Jan 20, 2025 | Poems
Dual lives
One filled with striving, excelling and confidence
The other layered with fear, angst and overthinking
Keep the struggle inside.
Don’t let them see the whole of who you are
If they only knew, what would they think?
Rejection and judgment perhaps
Or quiet disengagement?
Facing your fears daily
Is riddled with mental gymnastics;
Stop thinking, no don’t stop thinking
Actually, allow the thinking
But externalize it, wait no
Just accept it as part of you and
Don’t resist it.
And then maybe it will go away
Or maybe it won’t.
Exhausting…..
Can I be like this little butterfly
With her metamorphosis and ease as she
Flutters around the sun?
She soaks up the heat
Pulling in this moment close.
Can I finally integrate all of who I am and
pull into this moment
And trust?
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by terrisearstherapy | Jan 20, 2025 | Poems
We didn’t get that much time with you…
Your love of melody and melancholy
Snickers bars and getting stuck in the Black Hills snow in your Scout
All describe your inclinations…your thing, your way.
Remembering going for walks with you in the warm summer evenings
Just to look at the Moon.
Oh, blue moon looking down on us
Smiling knowing the love shared and tragedy to come
How does one ever make sense of senseless loss?
Our hearts are only so big and when there’s a hole in your heart
You have less to work with.
I’m always sewing and mending my heart.
I think your heart was just too big for this world.
It took on all emotions and couldn’t differentiate between
What to treasure and what to let go of.
It wasn’t easy for you with a father who wasn’t around much and was an alcoholic.
He set a pathway for you that you never wanted to really take.
Your pursuit of excellence
Carried you through until your woundedness overtook you.
As I’m getting closer to the age when you died,
I have questions.
Why did you feel so alone even though many loved you?
What about living this life turned you into a shell of yourself?
Why did debilitating depression have to take you from us?
No real answer to these questions will suffice because they won’t bring you back.
I saw your spirit break, after a long battle
It was exasperated.
You had to release it.
But make no mistake, those of us left behind will always wish we had more time.
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by terrisearstherapy | Jan 20, 2025 | Poems
This bittersweet time of change to come
Anticipation met with fear and hope.
What can provide comfort now?
The quiet moments of reflection and meditation,
The prayers of acceptance and compassion
helps sometimes.
This life can be tumultuous;
Asking us to show up, no matter what.
I see the small bluebird
Perched on that branch
Waiting for her next meal of a tiny insect
Or a new song to transpire so she can share her joy
And bring about remembrance of those now gone.
She holds in her heart a knowing
That Everything changes
Grows and ages
And she too will cycle through these seasons
In her short life.
Peace is found in acknowledging
And allowing these shifts
While choosing to still engage in each day
With its unfolding and
Sacredness, unlike
Any other day.
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by terrisearstherapy | Jan 19, 2025 | Poems
To experience the exhilaration of meeting a goal
Getting that job, getting the house,
Finding your partner or finally
Feeling grounded in your life.
Yet intertwined with these joys
Are the dark days, the angst
Of not knowing what is next.
Or the let-down of a failed plan
Or the loss of something important to us.
How do we hold the weight
Of this wild spectrum and not
Give up or lose faith and hope?
It’s a little secret you see,
One we knew when we were born
But lost along the way.
Embracing the duality of these life experiences
Allows for grace and redemption to root and grow.
For who would we be
If our hearts were never broken
Or sorrow hadn’t come our way
Or disappointment hadn’t visited?
Use all of this to weave your story
Knowing this is the
Bravest thing you can do.
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by terrisearstherapy | Jan 18, 2025 | Poems
A Mother’s hands are built from bone, flesh and love.
She will hold you as an infant, gently put you on her knee.
Your first experience of pure, unconditional love.
Her swift hands hold you when you cry and wrap you up in warm blankets.
She puts you in your highchair for your first delicious bites of apple or carrots and your smile reflects back to her that you feel her love.
Her hands are so busy, out in the world…lifting, fixing, writing and expressing themselves to others.
Yet at the end of the day when she comes home to you, her hands embrace you
and remind you that you are okay and that she is with you.
Oh, how her hands move during the holiday season…gumdrop cakes, chocolate chip bread and Christmas cookies
all call upon her hands to press, push and pull.
Her hands don’t stop until the end of the day when they gently wash her own face,
brush her own teeth and finally pull the bed covers up.
Her hands are freckled and cracked but adorned with rings and jewels holding memories and adventure.
Her hands have traveled far and wide, felt traumatic loss and wiped away many tears.
Her hands so delicately tried to adjust her hair or her shawl at the end of her days.
Her hands were tired.
I will miss her hands.
The hands that held me at birth, the hands that comforted me as an infant into adulthood
and the hands that finally said “You must let go”.
In my dreams I see her hands…busy, holding, touching and forever giving.
A mother’s hands will never be forgotten.
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by terrisearstherapy | Jan 16, 2025 | Poems
How do you fashion your sleeves?
Maybe with layers of shirts, jackets or jewelry
That showcases your reach.
How about your solid wrists that are underneath them?
But do your sleeves let air in
Or are they shut to prevent exposure?
My grandmother and mother after her, would put
Tissues up her sleeve to be used later
To blow her nose or throw out her gum.
Years ago, did your child or friend tug at your sleeve to get
Your undivided attention and a reminder of
Your acceptance of them?
Nowadays, a few things tug at my sleeves.
My children, my husband, my family and friends
And also my heart and then mind,
Which sets a course for the day
Rather slow or fast and has a path I can direct only so much.
I want my sleeves to stand for something.
I want them to encase my wrists and hands with a purpose.
I want to be led by the sleeves to honesty, balance and joy.
And when sorrow and pain come tugging, I want to be prepared
To greet them, knowing this too I can endure.
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