words create thought
and thought creates pictures
and images
and entire scenes of life
~~~~
so carefully choose
what words you allow
into that precious space
then let creativity flow
~~~~
because language is a verb
~~~~
©Heather Pound 2022
there is a pot on the balcony out front
that has held more ill-fated plants
than i would care to admit
~~~~
alas, while the pot looks attractive from
the drive, i cannot see it from within and
have failed numerous poor pitiful creatures
as they wither and die alone and forgotten
~~~
until i remembered the air plant i was
given that i carelessly tossed out back
it has flourished with my neglect and now
resides in the tragic vessel, content
and i do absolutely nothing for its care
~~~~
now when i come into the drive
instead of seeing repeated failure
i see ‘cunning solution’ instead
~~~~
–it’s okay to adjust expectations into something more manageable
when we walked through the rose garden
and you noticed the droplets of dew
on petals of cream that had
seen better days, this is the moment
that I knew—-
you would be okay
~~~~
because a person that can see the beauty
in moments like these has the skills
they need to gather the light
one ray at a time
and to broaden the cracks
to let more sunshine in
~~~~
be a seeker of the light,
grow this habit
hold it tight
look for the small
and insignificant things
that are beauty at its core
~~~~
and you will always
have the perspective
you need to take your eyes
off of your own despair
on those awful and terrible days
that come as a part of life
and to notice something beautiful
in the world around once again
~~~~
and then to remember that you, yes you,
are also a part of this
~~~~
—-if you need it to be, this is your one job today: look for something, anything beautiful
©Heather Pound 2022
It’s so complicated being human
and living inside a chest and brain
that confuses and exhausts and
sometimes feels buoyant up there
upon cloud nine, and sometimes
feels like a cobra slowly twisting
tighter, stealing breath away
from a heart that wants
nothing more than to exhale
let alone soar high and free
~~~~
—it’s really okay not to be okay
~~~~
©Heather Pound 2022
Nourisher of life
tall and proud she stands
Neck extended even with
the constant weight she bears
And bear she does, children
offspring to be nurtured
Classifying their needs far before
her own, offering the best
that she has, always on her
mind, nesting in her hair
And yet she blossoms
chin lifted high
accomplished eyes
gathering wisdom
for who else can do
the things she can
Mother
but most importantly, woman.
~~~~
©Heather Pound 2022
I used to think that ‘processing’ meant lessening
unravelling, compacting, release
~~~~
but for those awful, painful things,
it is the vessel that expands instead,
not the grief becoming less
~~~~
Our outsides look the same, but within
and if we let it, our heart first grows a bubble,
then box, then a tent, then a building and so on
and so forth, that better holds the ache
~~~~
This slowly happens over time
and more of that than we’d wish,
but space develops to hold, to handle,
to cope with that original troublesome wound
~~~~
eventually creating scope to allow in
many other things, good things, strong things
that mingle and mix and make the aching less
and lets the sun shine in
~~~~
–grief and pain take time, but the light will find its way in
~~~~
Heather Pound 2022
A poem is the space between words,
the paring down of conversation and story
eliminating here and trimming there
doing away with the unimportant
leaving the richest cream, what’s beautiful or best
from the ebb and flow of words
~~~~
Yet sometimes the poem is the silence,
the things not uttered aloud
but glances and nods between friends
or a beloved’s devoted embrace
more meaningful because they’re unspoken
like the coolness in the breeze at the end of a day
of sun and waves and smiles
~~~~
Heather Pound 2022
We are pieces of crisp, green apple
resting on the table
Each of us fresh, tart, full of flavor,
mouthwatering simply by existing
~~~~
But as slices lay alone, the more stale
they become. Limp, thirsty,
browning edges, unappealing,
rotting in the end
~~~~
Being apart is fine for a time but
like parts of an apple, we belong
as a whole
~~~~
Individuals, yes
but with each other we last longer,
fresh, protected, grounded, resilient
~~~~
We are not meant to be isolated
~~~~
but together
~~~~
–community
~~~~
©Heather Pound 2022
We were not meant to live with constant
images of ourselves, mirrors and
cameras and things such as these
~~~~
This is something that we have created
and not for our own wellbeing
~~~~
It is far better to focus on the person
that we are inside, to appreciate them
deeply and foster their growth
~~~~
This is who we really are
and this is what honestly matters
~~~~
and whether we believe it or not,
this is what people of consequence
actually see
~~~~
I wonder if part of growing old
is to watch the beauty change
so that we focus more within
~~~~
but how much better would it be
to start at that place first
~~~~
–when I was small and people would admire my most distinctive feature, my mother used to say, “She’s pretty on the inside, too.”
©Heather Pound 2022
Tonight, I cooked a pumpkin
One of those planted in the ditch of his retirement village a few months back
A twinkle in his eye when he told us
Contraband in placement, collaboration with the man that cuts the grass
~~~~
I curried it and fed it to his son, my husband
The one that looks like him
And carries his form in character
A man of high standards for himself, and a heart that gives—but a ‘character’ all the same
When that twinkle in the eye unanticipated comes
~~~~
“Just give it a go,” he told his kids, and they all did
Achieving much in life in the ways that make meaning–and joy!
Lavishness in legacy
~~~~
A lot can happen in a few short months
The gardener, now asleep
Someone else harvests the crops
But the many things that he grew live on
And on
~~~~
–in honour of the veteran that we always think of most on Anzac Day, my father-in-law, a WWII bomber pilot, written shortly after he left us in 2021.
©Heather Pound 2021
Heather Pound 