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Category: Poems

Lie in the Grass

Lie in the Grass

 

I am feeling the beginning of the dog days of summer with heat bearing down on sun drenched skin. It is in August that one feels the inevitable return of darkness on the doorstep, a change of seasons in the air. It is also with this knowing that I wrote this poem.

My intention was to try and capture the very best of summer as a temporary experience. Seasons are a great reminder of our mortality. Even the very best weather will fade.  Flowers bloom and lose their petals, blades of grass turn brown under the heat welcoming the layers of leaves and snow pack to come. No matter the occasion, all things will change…even us.

 

Lie in the Grass

 

Let’s lie in the grass until the sun leaves today

Staying as long as the world let’s us play

Asleep to the pressures rumbling below

Awake to the brightness of flowers aglow

 

Stretched out among the blades of grass

Letting our worries melt and bypass

This glorious field filled with love and light

Devouring every bit of precious daylight

Let Stillness Speak

Let Stillness Speak

 

Quiet the mind, let angry voices of unrest 

settle, by sitting in silence until 

all that can be heard is the 

steady beat of a broken heart

 

Steep in this stillness, allowing a sacred

balm of reflection to permeate every

cell, giving breath to all that

remains unanswered, all that festers

 

Listen to this stillness speak 

of ancient heart songs singing

 stories of adventures not yet

taken and mysteries left to be discovered

 

Nothing Speaks

Nothing Speaks

 

Lips pressed so tightly sealed, eyelids close as emotion yields

Everything slowing to a crawl, vision narrowing down the eternal hall

Wanting to run but legs remain, stuck in quicksand from the rain

Face to face with a godly mirror, reflecting ideas falsely clear

 

Suddenly now I feel the growl, a voice stifled and becoming foul

Rising up from the darkest place, around my throat with fingers laced

Willing any sound to be heard, trying to shout like a morning bird

Crumbling apart and thought as weak, no matter the effort nothing speaks

 

-Lavinia Busch

 

How does one find their voice after many years of holding back, willing it to silence because of insecurity or scrutiny? I have made my fair share of mistakes learning how to speak up over the years. It is very difficult finding the right tone when freeing an idea that has been wanting so desperately to emerge. Often, the result is a harsh exclamation…not a good look.

 

When I wrote the poem “Nothing Speaks” my mind was in deep consideration of this contradiction. When a voice has been silent for an extended period of time, it is unbelievably difficult to change course and exercise a willing openness. The give and take of daily conversation can set off all sorts of alarms. “Is it safe to say what I know to be true?” or “Will people think less of me?”  The self-doubt never ceases, and the easiest road is to just keep silent.

 

It takes great courage to finally speak up, especially for one like myself that prefers to keep most thoughts tightly held. In my rush to seize the moment and speak to an issue I am passionate about, sometimes the words tumble out more assertively than I would like.

 

In general, my goal is to find the balance between not speaking, as in the poem, and sharing my thoughts openly. Some days I am better at it than others. I have learned that as in all things, balance in conversation is a muscle that must be exercised.

 

 

 

Nothing Remains

Nothing Remains

 

Nothing Remains

 

Pictures drifting as before, when frailty roamed with an audible roar

Apparitions lifeless and complete, in precious memories so very sweet

Blink and the fragile forms will change, faces and stories all appearing strange

Set your watch and shed your chains, at long last nothing remains

 

-Lavinia Busch 2019

 

Having just returned to work after a six month sabbatical, I am caught in a fog of “work stuff”. As a librarian in higher education, I have the wonderful opportunity to work with young adults excited about learning and exploring new ideas. By the same token, the culture of busyness and the hierarchical structures of university life have left me conflicted.

 

What I am left with is the idea of impermanence and contribution. Well aware of the fragile nature of life, it is striking how much energy is expended doing things that have nothing to do with permanence. Pepper this with what can be real injustices in the world, and I find myself constantly thinking about an elusive other way forward.

 

“Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.”

― Paulo Coelho

 

As a person attempting to let go of all that weighs heavily, what remains clear is that the practice of minimalism is not just about stuff. Minimalism is what we allow into our lives and what we set free to move along on the rivers of fate. Nothing remains static; no problem, institution, relationship, river or mountain. Everything is in a constant state of change. Stepping away from my workplace for six months really demonstrated this concept for me.

 

When I am gone, my work contribution will remain as if an echo bouncing off the walls of a vast and empty hallway as new voices, ideas and leadership step forth. What then is really important to me? How should I be spending my precious life energy?

 

The answer I always return to is family and writing. Both are extremely important to me and deserving of my very best. Through my family, I leave a bit of myself in all that I do. My children may not grasp the value of this work, but I am convinced my job is only to plant the seeds of hope and inspiration. They must tend their own soil and allow unique flowers to bloom.

By writing, I contribute my voice, my heart, in a format that will far outlast my physical body. It would be lovely if in 100 years, someone picked up one of my poems and felt unfamiliar emotions after reading. To me this would epitomize life energy well spent.

 

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

― Heraclitus

 

Remembering that nothing remains is also a comfort during times of unease. Everything that confounds me about this life will pass. The discomfort of this physical body, awkward relationships and the many mind numbing tasks that make up a day. In the future, the world will no longer be as I see it now.  A new landscape will emerge as the cycle of life returns and repeats.  Taking this in, my desire to spend more time doing what speaks to my heart is pressing. We must all ask ourselves, if these were our last days on earth, what would we do with the time remaining?

 

 

Gentle Brushstrokes

Gentle Brushstrokes

 

Solitude resides with a peaceful clarity, a sharp

 picture of what is and what might be

Only in this quiet can a heart beat freely, unbound by

the constant blur of thought running errant within

 

In silence, the tsunami of emotions

rubbed raw by the roughness of the day

subsides, leaving a softness, colored by

the gentle brushstrokes of a rolling hillside

 

-Lavinia Busch 2019

 

With the intensity of the lunar eclipse this past weekend and the air as vessel for all that remains, I find myself wishing everything to slow down, lending more time to consider things as they are. So often, when the stakes are high, I get caught up in the swell of emotion as if a leaf in a tsunami. Returning to the work environment has sent a cascade of ever turbulent waves my way and it is taking all that I have to swim rather than sink.

 

Honoring my need for quiet, I spent some time at Vasquez Rocks this weekend. The air was crisp and the hillside called. Acting as if young again, I found myself scrambling up the rocks wishing nothing more than to get to the highest vantage point. Feeling the cool wetness of the rocks against my hands, I climbed and climbed. As I reached the highest point my legs would allow, I took notice of the pools of emotion laid bare on the hillside. The surrounding area looked like a beautiful painting created with gentle brushstrokes rather than the jumble of people I had left on the ground below.  Perspective really is everything.

 

Storms will come and go. It is and has always been my personal work to weather the storms with gentleness and love. At times I fall short and suffer the consequences of reacting in an abrupt or harsh manner. In these moments, it is up to me to forgive myself and reset intentions. If history serves, there will be much more opportunity for forgiveness as I stumble along the turbulent shores of life. My salvation continues to be writing and nature.

 

To that end, a random flock of birds caught my attention while walking on a busy street in my neighborhood. The birds looked to be rehearsing a ballet with sharp changes of direction and shape. The whole spectacular took my breath away and for a brief time, the waves of turmoil quieted. Stopping to feel the calming heartbeat in all things has become my hope and aspiration. No matter the circumstance, beauty can be found in a morning sunrise, the whip of the wind or the quiet of a winter night. These gentle brushstrokes allow for a respite from the hardships of this flawed life and a reminder of the universal breath in the most honest of ways.

 

Castle Up In the Air

Castle Up In the Air

 

Living in my castle up in the air

Floating softly without a care

Clouds as pillows, stars as light

Nothing but beauty both day and night

 

Tranquil sounds fill the sky

Symphonies of angels passing by

Oh how I miss this ancient lullaby

Rocking me gently way up high

 

The ground is rigid as hardship looms

Soaking in regret, resting in tombs

You shall find me light and fair

Forever in my castle up in the air

 

-Lavinia Busch 2019

 

Bird On A Wire

Bird On A Wire

 

 

Just a bird on a wire hanging on decision

Minding the sky no matter the condition

High above the distorted slums of fate

Somewhere between love and hate

 

From this perch clarity should prevail

A crewless ship minding the sails

Which way will the hidden tempest cry

Gusting upheaval from the sky

 

Very soon I must leave this temporary stage

Skirting along the propensity for age

For now I remain, divided among

Love still humming on a silenced tongue.

 

-Lavinia Busch 2019

 

Sway

Sway

 

 

I have no idea why I felt compelled to write a meditation today. The idea of swaying as a comfort is on my mind along with the use of breath to facilitate this comfort. As one that does not meditate routinely, I find reading these words deeply relaxing.

Intuitively, the tension of the holiday season is upon us and a palpable unease of obligation is in the air. Take just one short moment to center yourself each day and remember we are a part of something so much greater than we can comprehend. Let the small things go and know all will be well.

 

Sway, gently… back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Close your eyes and feel lightness

Let your chest expand and contract

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Notice your thoughts and set them free

Release all that binds your heart

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Settle into this space between

This warm and welcoming unknown

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Rest in this space for as long as you wish

Disregard obligations and pretense…just be

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Unfold and unwind, release all tension

Allow light to permeate every cell, every space

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Sense possibility, know it is for you

Embrace all of it, as if a loved one

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Fly now, do not look back,

Soar and gaze upon mountain peaks

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Let the wind lift you, higher and higher

Soak in the warmth of the universe

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Continue above the farthest spaces

Seek the nearest star and make it home

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Now slowly allow the spirit to return

Gently unwrap the layers of protective energy

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Gravity leads and your feet touch the earth

Ground yourself and feel the life in the soil

 

Sway, gently…back and forth

Deep breath in, deep breath out

Know the stardust and soil are one in the same

You are here, you are everywhere, all is well.

 

Passing Importance

Passing Importance

 

Art-Ines Honfi

One on the slow road, the other the fast,

Improbable two should every pass.

Yet within this complex and twisted world,

An intersection of light begins to whirl.

 

Life as we know it bends and breaks

Energy between vibrates and shakes.

Two hearts and minds influence the end

The passing importance must defend.

 

Everything is different, now as before,

Two walking by, one through the door.

Connectivity grinds, no matter the pace,

Ushering the new, face to face.

-Lavinia Busch, 2018

 

If These Hills Could Speak

If These Hills Could Speak

 

 

Last night above the hills you crept

Rain caressing the mesa as you wept

Tears of all who walked this way

Shadows of souls still wandering today

 

Listen, If only these hills could speak

Wind boisterous and bold but never meek

Land with voice, stripped raw and naked

Holding bones of the many sacred

 

Tell me who you were, what happened here

I feel your presence, strong and clear

In the still of night you visited my room

Memories of your life weaving a mystical loom

 

Speak soft and quietly if you must

I hear your whisper between grains of dust

Heat of daylight silencing the bustling squalls

As the final moment encroaches, inscribing the wall.

-Lavinia Busch, 2018