Heather Pound

sometimes

in the middle 

of seasons

of perseverance,

just doing what

you need to

every single day,

a morning will 

dawn, fresh

and clean and 

with the rising sun

you will be surprised

at how your soul

also rises within, 

and how if you stop 

even for a moment

and observe, the joy that

you thought was sound

asleep lifts up its dozy 

head to greet the day,

this impossibly exquisite

new day that swiftly dawns.

~~~~~

—surprised by joy 

©Heather Pound 2022

when i was younger

i worried about who may

or may not invite me to

the table. i feared rejection 

and saw loneliness waiting 

in the wings. and to be 

completely honest the older 

me does still somewhat 

worry about this as well.

~~~~

but my head now knows

that difference is an exiting

thing. that we are all not

‘same’ for a reason, that

diversity is what inspires

great legends, the painter’s

brush, the minstrel’s song,

the adventurer’s map.

~~~~

this beauty is thrilling and 

varied and there really 

is enough to go around. 

so, if i am not your cup of tea, 

please drink coffee instead. 

that is fine, and between us we 

make a much more interesting 

and vibrant banquet for us all.

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

i wonder why we think

that ‘busy’ is a lovely word,

why we consider it paramount

to all other types of living, and that 

somehow, simply being in the 

state of, creates value in the end?

~~~~

maybe we should call it ‘thief’ as 

it steals our lives away. perhaps

we could name it ‘bringer of anxiety

and stress,’ ‘excuse for not being

present,’ ‘distraction from that 

which pains us’ or titles such as these.

~~~~

regardless, it does not possess the power

that we think it wields, it does not 

reign supreme. while periods of busy

are unavoidable, seeking and normalizing

periods of peace and rest are necessary 

friends to our wellbeing.

~~~~

and maybe, with time, ‘balance’ can 

be chosen instead, priorities identified, 

and choices made to take back control 

of our minutes and our hours, 

of our schedules and our days, 

and for living, intentional living, to begin.

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

we know the taste sweet 

because of bitter, 

of joy because of pain,

of peace because of turmoil,

this enormous sense of 

treasure held deep within 

because we also know of loss.

~~~~~

one really does not exist 

without the other.

~~~~

this does not make the 

painful portions much easier 

to bear, but it does invite us 

to value, to notice, and to relish 

in the good, and by default, 

be more accepting of the rest.

~~~~

when painful comes to call

consider this. and when the

world is full of sunshine and

smiles, soak that in as well.

gather from each day what  

is given, and you will find 

more balance in the end.

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

she walked 

towards me,

arms so full

that her face 

was unseen,

and in her grasp

both fresh 

and fragrant,

were not the 

cares of this world 

or pain experienced

–i know her well, 

she had access 

to these–

but instead,

in her arms

bursting and

barely contained 

were blooms

of softness

and grace 

and a riot 

of colour 

such as i have 

never before seen

because 

on her journey 

she had not

held on 

to troubles

or pain

no, she

had hunted

wildflowers 

~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

today may be bereft, hollow, cold and tired

but this I know as sure as the sun 

rises to meet the new day,

that hope will return,

and with it bring

–joy

~~~~

it might be minute enough 

that you cannot locate it 

in the place that beats in your chest

but while it sleeps, indivisible even,

hope is wired to the human soul in a way that 

circumstance cannot fully sever, 

and if you wait for just a bit longer, patient,

a quiet resistance against despair

will awaken once again

~~~~

though hardship tries to snuff it out,

it may bend and bruise and even crack

but it is never, ever beyond repair.

so, rest assured, dear soul, 

that your hope will rise

and the light will find its way in

it could happen at any moment

and today might be that day

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

take a moment to examine, to listen

to what is sitting within your chest

to what your heart is longing to say.

whether it be joy, sadness, freedom

or fear, there is something

~~~~

and quieting your head so your heart

can communicate is an indispensable

skill towards health and healing

for when the heart speaks, the head

can also respond, together 

~~~~

and do not judge what you feel.

do not pick and choose and label

one emotion acceptable and one

‘not OK.’ feelings are necessary sensors 

to the entire wellbeing, the engine

~~~~

of you, either working in harmony

or in need of a tune. so welcome 

and appreciate everything that you

feel, let it communicate and honor

what it speaks as essential.

~~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

joy is not elsewhere, far off 

on the horizon or forever 

around the corner, hidden. 

~~~~

this frantic quest may take you

far and wide, probing distant

galaxies, but when you find her

~~~~

i think you will be astonished

that she was nearby all along.

here. right now. in this place. 

you do not 

look like me

sound like me

talk like me

think like me

act like or

dream like me.

still we are the same.

~~~~

both made in the image

of one greater than

our imaginations could

generate, our differences 

inconsequential, because 

we both come from and 

in our deepest of longings

migrate back towards 

the very same things.

~~~~

and i am the less if i do not 

see you the same way that 

i see me. perfectly

made but imperfectly 

patterned, just like myself. 

pricelessly,

wonderfully,

chaotically,

joyously 

human. 

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2022

she told me to accept what i was feeling

all that i felt, without judgment and this

i tried to do. until i realized there was 

one item i was long conditioned to ignore,

to control and never ever let run free.

~~~~

i thought that anger was just a downward 

spiral to hate and rage. i thought it inhibited 

forgiveness and peace and ‘not ladylike’ 

was deeply ingrained as well. 

~~~~

but my head has learned that anger has 

its place, its own type of service, and bears 

a scent that must be exhaled as part of a 

story of injustice identified.

~~~~

and she is welcome here.

for others, and even for ourselves. 

yes, this is acceptable too. 

~~~~

so i breathed in deep and shut my eyes 

and listened in the dark to what anger 

had to say.

~~~~

and she began to communicate. 

~~~~

louder and more convincingly than any voice 

i had ever heard, ‘this was not right.

this should not have happened.’

~~~~

and found that I most heartily agreed. 

~~~~

and the fire blazed and burned and for maybe

the first time, i embraced the heat and watched 

what happened next.

~~~~

instead of consuming me she began to devour 

things like misplaced guilt and should-have-dones 

and sadness with her searing blue-white flame.

~~~~

and her sister, grief, nodded, stood and 

clapped her hands at last. 

~~~~

certain anger is not meant to be tamed

but to burn white hot until at least released.

so let it roar and turn to ash that which 

sparked the heat within your chest. 

~~~~

consuming pain and shame and horror 

of what was and is, until there is peace

as embers flicker and finally grow cold 

satiated. 

~~~~

and you will look and say, ‘that pain, it 

squeezed my soul for far too long and

sucked oxygen from gasping lungs,’ as 

flames you tried to control in desperation

rage. 

~~~~

but now that they are free to do the 

purifying task that they were meant to 

accomplish all along, you are finally free 

as well.

~~~~

–lean in bold and do not fear this healing sort of flame. anger has its proper place and function.