My first visual poem.

I haven't taken the time out of my day in awhile... to simply write.

To write – that being my only intention.

But, this morning, I chose to take some time for journaling by the ocean.
Taking the time to make myself a coffee, lay down my beach towel and set some intentions for the day.
My mind quieted and I started to hear these words, in turn, writing this short poem.

I decided to make it visual and show you exactly what I was seeing as I was writing and then recording my voiceover. I love the experience of a visual poem and I hope this one gives you a little peace today.

Inspired by 2020.

A poem for you... if you feel alone right now.

i wrote this the other night… hope you enjoy & sending love to wherever you are. (video version listen below)

Sirens, panic, Clorox spray.

It was Friday night. I was in my apartment, watching a YouTube video, resting after a day of painting. 
I repeat, it is Friday – social distancing began last Sunday – it hasn’t even been a week of not seeing anyone. 

I love being alone.
Get me away from people, I need my space. I’m not a hugger. 
I wish I could get away from everyone and paint all the time.

You know what they say…
be careful what you wish for – because you just might get it. 

In this case, of course, I am not speaking of the virus – the widespread, global pandemic COVID-19, otherwise known as coronavirus. 

This invisible monster,
That seems to be lurking in the crevices of your coffee table,
And the interior nook of your front door. 
Eyes glazed across the screen of your phone,
Glued to the latest news.

Guns, knives, and nuclear warfare seemingly dismantled by one invisible glare of a minuscule organism. 
At this point of the night,
I hear sirens blaring up and down the street where I live… and I feel the panic spread over my body.

Maybe there’s a fire,
Maybe there’s a crazy person running around

Maybe there’s a fight over groceries at CVS
Maybe they’re out of toilet paper 

These were valid thoughts. 
I let myself think about them. I was aware of them.
I was acknowledging everything around me. 

The look that woman gave me today on my bike ride,
As if I was from another planet,
Plagued with the infection,
As if I was the infection itself.

There’s a paranoia all around us.
Not the one lurking on the corners of your coffee table,
Being flooded with Clorox spray and sanitizer. 

But the one in the eyes of a stranger.
Someone who regards you for this invisible illness orbiting our world. 

The thoughts about the sirens I heard tonight outside seemed to mimic what was happening in the world at large. 
The sirens – the fear. 

These days spent alone
Have taught me that I am a hugger.
That connection is vital – physical human connection.
Staring into a loved one’s eyes,
Sharing moments with the one’s who are most important to you.
Being compassionate to others.
Smiling at a stranger (while keeping a 6 ft distance)

As the sirens blare – as the fear spreads…What if we all, were invited to not plug our ears in ignorance… but to acknowledge the sound, be cautious and wary.
Be present with it,
and re-center. 

Put your hand on your heart and feel it beating beneath the palm of your skin,
On the tips of my fingers. 
Realizing we all beat the same.
And tell yourself to breathe in and out and say softly – thank you,
For surviving up until this point in time.
Your body is strong and resilient.
Your mind may be hectic at this time and paranoid thoughts can be overwhelming,
But take a moment, 
To put them at bay.
Feel the tides change.

And say thank you – 
For another breath.