from my book “Known”
i am certain my cat can read my mind
because as soon as i merely consider
that i must get up from my chair and into my day
upon my lap she climbs
purring, wait a little longer, tarry, do not rush.
stay right here with me
and let us commune
in peace.
and often, if schedule permits,
i listen to her wisdom ancient
for a time.
heather pound 2025
Photo by Caleb Woods on Unsplash
You’re not perfect, but you’re perfectly enough for whatever your purpose is…..
today is not a task to be accomplished
a never-ending trail of crumbs
to vacuum up
a series of chaotic moments
all bundled up together
until the sunshine sets
if this this is how you live your days
always chasing the horizon
you will miss those glimmers of joy
sparkling moments unexpected
that just might arrive upon
your very next breath
when you notice how sunshine feels
on cold winter skin
or marvel the way daffodils bloom
bright and unexpected
as you relish their saffron glow
on a grey and windy day
therefore, breathe in deep
for lungs to expand,
allow your belly to rise
and dance into this day
not simply to get through it—
but to live your hours invested,
gathering those radiant moments
in grateful, longing hands
for each and every day
holds the possibility
of pockets of happiness
if you only create the space
heather pound 2025
Photo by Michał Bińkiewicz on Unsplash
when i live for ‘me’
i wonder why things don’t go my way often
how dreadful things continue to happen
and it seems that questions like these
lead down the path towards despair
but when i live for ‘we’
i remember there are more substantial things
than my personal happiness constant
and recall that my efforts unnoticed
are worth doing still
how experiences difficult grew me
that the support of others heals
and allows me to walk beside
someone else now
that assisting another today
is fulfilling
laden with meaning
important
worthwhile
heather pound 2025
photo by A. C. for Unsplash+
🌿There are times when we must help ourselves first and this is okay. But living that way continually is hollow. And lonely. The best way to live is a beautiful flow of mutual support, in community. This is often easier said than done, but worth searching for. When you find your people, hold on to them— but keep your circle open to embrace others, too!🌿
if only you could release that knot,
the one sitting creaky and long
in the middle of your chest.
oh, how deep you could then breathe
you would gather it all up in one tidy
midsized ball—and then exhale,
letting it flow from your heart
into open air wide
as it dissipates
and vanishes
but even while you ponder
prickles sharpen,
and like the spines
of a stubborn cactus
it digs in tighter still
it will not be an easy thing
this exhale of release
yet you draw thorns out of flesh
one sting by even one more painful sting
until at last it floats free
and you breathe in deep—
—and breathe out release.
and there it goes, like tumbleweed across
the road in bracing winter wind
and your heart begins to sing
and remembers you are so much more
than the voice that whispered harsh
“inadequate”
—whatever your knot might be
it’s worth the effort to release.
heather pound 2025
Photo by Canva
🌿I reworked this poem from a couple of years ago because it spoke to my own heart today. This process is not easy, but is better in the long run than carrying the weight around another day longer. 🌿
my great uncle dean fell into a lime pit
as a very young boy and after that, the story
goes, he was never the same again
(but in those days, ‘different’ was
always a shameful thing, so maybe
he was uniquely himself all along)
he was the one that lived
with my grandpa and grandma, his sister
and came quietly to meals
not really engaging, slipping away
as soon as he could
he shuffled in old clothes
and didn’t act the way
everyone else expected,
but he worked the farm faithful.
and i remember my grandpa
especially kind as he listened while
his brother-in-law hesitantly spoke,
unaware that i was watching.
times were tough on the farm,
good seasons came and went
but bills must be paid
nevertheless
and my grandma, she worried.
quietly carrying the burden with
deep and tired sighs as her heart
grew weaker and grandpa aged
still working on the rented farm.
but one day her brother passed away
sudden, and the bank manager
said he had quietly been squirreling
away his meager income
year after year, after year
and had bequeathed it all—to her.
my grandparents purchased
a cozy house in town
and lived comfortably there
the rest of their days, convenient
due to a brother’s unexpected care.
the moral of the story is:
intentionally be kind
and love others well
without any strings
faithful
and don’t worry about things
not easily solved today
since they frequently
work out in the end
regardless
heather pound 2025
Photo from Getty Images
the walls of water float high both sides
since you are able to part the sea,
but still i stand with shaking hands
legs that tremble, heart that pounds
and honestly all i want
is to retreat
because while i know this feat is yours,
One-who-can-part-the-waves,
these particular water walls
loom especially high.
and though i see the path between
is clear and even dry, this route
requires significant trust that you
will get me to the other side.
this path—beyond my ability
well past my own strength
into places i have never been
environments that i do not know.
yet, like moses, so terribly long ago
i hold my breath
and inch one step
by one step
forward at a time,
bordering on terrified
and remind myself of times past
there has only been you and me,
and how amazingly free
that space can be
where i must just trust you
and while i tremble still
i take a step of faith
—and walk between
the towering waves.
heather pound 2025
Photo by Getty Images
he gave me a ring just because
he knew that i liked jewellery,
this little grandson of mine
when he was only four
marching his mum right
to a shop to spend his very own
pocket-money saved on something
i would love before my arrival.
insisting that they come inside
the airport to collect me,
not just wait by curb outside,
he handed me his precious
gift before even giving
a hug. ‘this is for you!’
and my heart exploded in a
thousand little pieces
of joy, much like the feeling of
holding him for the very first time.
and i forced it on my finger vowing
to leave it there—until it broke
after only a couple of days
and i had to make excuses the rest
of my visit about how i was keeping
it safe so i could show his grandad
and uncles when i went home, still
telling him i loved it every time.
when i asked six months ago
if he remembered buying me
a special ring, he didn’t. i suspected by
then he wouldn’t, but that’s just fine
because i still have that ring tucked up
in my jewellery box
the one his mother gave me with
my initials etched on the latch.
and there it will remain
as long as i’m alive.
heather pound 2025
grief is an awkward companion.
just when you think you finally
understand his bewildering ways
or are immune to his
painful influence at last—
he pops right back up again
unexpected
he is the relationally clumsy
uncle who concerns by
never being able to predict
what he will or will not do
at the latest family wedding
will he behave, will he hide
or will he dance the night away
limbs akimbo, people staring?
will he offend his tablemates
completely unaware
while all he wants is to be who
he is, do whatever he needs to do
to be accepted and allowed
to breathe?
he does not need to be socially
embraced to be legitimate,
and if he is not invited
more often than not,
he grows unpredictable indeed
—what might it look like if we
were just allowed to grieve?
heather pound 2025
Photo by Vijendra Singh on Unsplash
Heather Pound 