Heather Pound

I know what it is like to watch the pain of someone that you love,

wishing with your entire heart and soul that you could,

with your own two hands, reach into every crevice,

each cell and atom of their body—and heal

But alas, while humans can do many amazing things,

we cannot accomplish this.

~~~~

So, I am not here to give you any well-meaning,

planned out words of wisdom or platitudes of hope,

these you have already encountered enough. I am just here

to listen to whatever needs to escape your worn out,

tattered heart, and offer a safe and quiet space

–for rest. If you wonder how I have managed to

keep on breathing in circumstances such as

these, I will happily offer whatever thoughts I can,

but only if you ask. Until then let’s just–be.

~~~~

 —What people often need is a kind heart to be there with them. This is a powerful gift. Don’t be afraid to simply offer this.

©Heather Pound 2021

©Heather Pound 2021

Image: Canva

Have you ever skipped a stone across a lake,

water smooth as glass, defying the power of

gravity with every jump, even for a moment

A spontaneous celebration erupting when the

bounces reach a number even close to ‘ten’

~~~~

I doubt that the stone minds those moments

of not truly connecting to the earth. People

do, however, when they tell us something

deeply personal, and we are as

inhospitable as the water to the stone

~~~~

This, the pattern of conversation that

much of society favours, not really hearing,

and thinking about what we will say next,

rather than deeply listening, senses engaged

Either caught up on our own opinions

or worrying about how our answer will be

perceived. More about us than about the

person that we are with, if we are honest

~~~~

And we should be honest, because to be seen,

to be known, to be acknowledged, to be heard

is one of the deepest longings of the

average human heart

~~~

Creatures of community, we walk through

entire days withholding the greatest gift  

that one person can offer another

–to stop and truly listen

Senses simply and empathetically

focused on the life of another

Their needs, desires, thoughts and joys,

now valued just because another person

stopped—and heard

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2021

When the workmen dug beside the road a year ago or more

the digger damaged branches on the tree that has lived far longer

than I have been alive. But over the winter, I had forgotten this

even though I commune with her daily while at my kitchen sink

~~~~

But now the sun is warming and new life trims the bare

with leaves of lace, unspoiled, green and dewy fresh,

and the gash in her new season dress is once again—obvious

The branches that are broken, naked and unmoving, are

almost like a limp. While otherwise tall and graceful

she waves at me when the wind passes through

~~~~

Do you walk with a limp like this old sister fair?

Do you sometimes see the glaring wound more than

the beauty of the whole? Wish it were gone, will it away

and discover this might be an impossible task?

~~~~

Some of us walk with an unseen limp, a part of who we are

at times it is more obvious, but regularly

it reminds us to stride more measured,

pacing ourselves for the road ahead, not just a single event

~~~~

And this, while irritating, can invite us to notice

things that we would have otherwise rushed past

Worthwhile, kind, and beautiful things

there to be gathered like colorful blooms  

waiting beside the road  

~~~~

And while we may resist this journey

the best way forward is one of acceptance

embracing all the parts of who we are

moving forward as a whole

—cherishing the whole—

even with a limp

~~~~

—-This is the way to live with peace. And quite often our limp becomes a valuable part of who we are. If your limp bothers you today, embrace it and let it teach you to walk differently. It may not always be with you, but you will be different because of what you have learned.

©Heather Pound 2021

Half-mast and underfed,

I wonder why we frequently

try to live with a diet that

is close to starvation from

the things that truly fill the

bellies of our soul. The food we

require is available and closer

than we think, yet we seek

to live life on rations of crumbs,

famished by distraction,

undernourished at the core

~~~~

Eat of the goodness of life,

that which sustains

While frivolity, excitement,

the pursuit of pleasure,

and things deemed ‘success’

are treats that taste fine;

the food that nourishes

and keeps us alive

is the simple fare found

in daily routines and things

that we can easily mistake

for ‘boring’ or ‘ordinary’

~~~~

Yet without a diet

based on substance

we quickly fade to a shadow

of who we really are and

live wondering why

‘flourish’ is something

we never quite manage

~~~~

After all, would you hold your

breath or breathe shallow

searching for the scent

of something fine

when the fresh air around  

is clean and always in supply?

——–Biology 101

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2021

I looked around the place that I was in
Nothing there but bleak, hostile, bare
not a place to build a home
or even unpack a bag
so I began to cross
one step at a time
shaking and quivering
across that flimsy bridge
Because sometimes when you’re desperate
even something shaky and unknown
is preferable to where you have been

But a curious thing began to happen
with each cautious step
I found that the bridge was stronger than I thought
and grew more substantial with each step

Or rather, each uttered word
And the woman sitting across from me listened
with such an empathetic heart

without a flicker of judgement 
and with so much kindness in her eyes,
that I told her all that was in my withered soul
mascara running down my face,

tissues scattered round
And week by week I began to see 
the beauty that was possible on the other side
of that substantial bridge

—This is a memory of the first time I connected with a counsellor. Pursuing counselling takes a huge amount of courage, but as the relationship develops it becomes easier, and quite literally, has changed my life!

©Heather Pound 2021

There he goes again, the little song thrush

that lives up to his name,

singing morning and night this spring

Faithfully waking us with the dawn

and serenading the setting sun,

high up on the spire that decorates

the roof next door, as if he is

the king of the world

~~~~

Not being familiar with the habits of his kind

I am not sure what motivates this routine

Perhaps he aspires to be a rooster instead

but with a more impressive range of tones and trills

that seems to be sung for no other reason

than spring is here, the air is fine,

and life is good

~~~~

And for me this has become a daily

reminder to stop and listen to the contagious joy

of a tiny bird, performing for all he is worth

marking his territory perhaps, but

for no other apparent reason

than simply being alive

~~~~

©Heather Pound 2021