Poetry: Each Morning, The Unseen Blank Page

CS Sherin May 21, 2019

I awaken.
I arise
each morning.
We all do.
At first seeing,
what is not seen —
is the blank page.
Upon it are wisps,
remnants of elusive,
felt dreams from sleeping.
They haunt the unseen blank page
like vivid watercolor drops that fade
as they dry.
Each new day, when we arise,
pages have already been written…
in dreaming, and other days, and then
we awaken again upon a new page
where we write our lives
by living,
breathing and being.

Blinking eyes, happily taunt-stretched limbs,
the loud yawn of awakening, the guttural
bellow
of the flexed stomach releasing…

we may wake up with expectations and a schedule.
We may be woken up by interruptions and demands.
We may arise alone or crowded, or something in between…
and we may want it, or not want it.
We may wake up peaceful and content, afraid and
worried, or neutral, or excited, or confused.

Still
we wake up living
and so
we write upon the blank page
of morning.
Each blank page becomes filled
with feelings, thoughts, actions, words —
the seen and the unseen, and
by choice and by no-choice —
consciously and unconsciously.

For me, in the past year and three months,
ever since a kitten was unexpectedly adopted…
every morning, my blank page begins
with the most persistent shower of
warmth and affection —
a cuddle like no other on my tip-top upper area
of the chest
with a complete nuzzling-in of a little face
deep into my neck, where he
purrs… and then sleeps, if I let him there long enough.
He is soft as a marshmallow
and just as sweet.
He is a being who comes to me
like a patiently timed magnet
instantly attracted — upon my awakening.
I do not write this on my page exactly,
it is a repeating miracle shining upon me
by a little mysterious being
of love, brought here by
my life partner. So,
our pages can change in certain ways
that are beyond us alone.

This young cat’s constancy,
his persevering
affection and gratitude
changes
my page of awakening.
He softens and warms my voice
and has been applying a medicine to
my heart each morning
that it has not known in this way
and sorely needed at this time.

The unseen blank page and
what I write upon it
is up to me…
because it is me…
living and breathing. No one else
can actually write it. Though others
may influence and affect it.
A life partner doesn’t write my pages for me
but he writes beside me, and I with him.
We fall asleep holding hands, waking up
we are next to or near each other.
Yet, everyone too…
because everything
and everyone
are connected to all that is.
We are all connected. If I forget that…
my page can lose its strength.
And if I forget
that I am writing my own life by living it
and that no one else can…
then my page can lose its magic.
That has happened before.
That was
something I wrote on pages of my life
at one time. And…
it is not happening anymore.
Today
I am writing a poem,
as the silence holds
my breath, writing, and
being in spaciousness.
That, for now, is all there is
in this moment
upon the page.

There is one more thing to say
about
all of this…
shining sunshine upon others
may not write upon their pages
exactly, because it is our own pages we write on.
Yet, what it does, is it
uplifts and warms,
it comforts, relaxes, and inspires, and can
help to welcome in
all kinds of
goodness and healing.

CS Sherin, Wild Clover | WildClover.org 2019©


Visual Poetry: Moments In Photos Become Art And Stepping Stones Along The Way

October 12, 2018
by CS  Sherin

Photo: Skeeze on Pixabay

I remember in college when I was going to art school that I kept a postcard up on my locker. It was a photograph of a golden eagle soaring in a clear blue sky. That photograph reminded me of a spiritual experience I had at the top of a mountain in the Rockies on my 13th birthday. It was a long, tiring climb, and it was my first ascent up an actual mountain. At the top was a revelation that engaged my whole being. At the top I could see across the range of mountains. At the top were trees, and ponds with tiny fishes or tadpoles, and very close above me was the silent grandeur of golden eagles soaring. Everything I saw and was a part of transformed me. It is an indelible experience and memory for me. The postcard was an image that kept that kind of energy present in my consciousness. It set the tone for every day that I earned my Studio Art degree. The meditation for today is photography, and specifically images that are meaningful to us.

When Autumn begins, the leaves fall, the air gets chilled, and I naturally begin to look forward to bedtime when I snuggle under the weight of blankets at night like a little squirrel in a nest. I delight in having reason to heat up some hot cacao to drink, and my inner bear feels the deep pull into, not hibernation, but into the inner cave of introspection, where I look back at what the summer was, in photos and dream journals mostly, and then look at what is changing outside, and what my goals are for the coming winter. As much as winter can be a challenge sometimes, there is nothing like transitioning from season to season, embracing each one as much as possible, flowing with the ancient rituals of our Earth’s rhythms and cycles.

I push aside the stresses that would demand my attention. I shut off the social media. I walk away from the phone. I resolutely choose, over and over, in each season, to walk in nature with my beautiful little dog, Samantha and with my husband and daughter. I choose to write and photograph what I see, what grabs me in the moment. And that is what they are, passing moments captured on digital photography. And it becomes not only a memory preserved, but also awakens a deeper appreciation in me of what potential, wonder, and beauty there is in every moment.

“People take pictures of each other

just to prove that they really existed…”

~ “People Take Pictures Of Each Other” by The Kinks

If that statement in the song by the great British Invasion era rock band, The Kinks, is true–there must be a fevered desired like never before to prove our existence to one another and ourselves. Yikes. Yet, I would like to think that even as we try to grasp beyond chronological time and the fleeting moments that slip on and on, just like the waves upon the shore of our ocean–that each art piece, photo, and movement for creativity is a stepping stone on a wonderful journey that is actually filled with mystery.

My inner bear of introspection is feeling very happy to share some of my favorite pics that journal moments in this past summer leading up to now. I have added some in-the-moment poetry with the images. May this be a joyful meditation and moment of recharging for you. Happy Friday!

Anniversaries bring out the pale pink rose vibrant with hope, love, and scent to heal the heart. It speaks of our love first-born, and then weathered and seasoned over decades, still new and emerging. Pink Rose Opening, 2018 Chandra S Sherin©

Out of hand (and foot) dangling like notes of music in the air, shoes that weren’t needed as one flies up like a bird? or left behind as one runs barefoot away from tight-fitting shoes with flimsy souls. Heavily populated wires mark territory for the imagination. Shoes On Wires, 2018, Chandra S Sherin©

We walk together through gardens, marshes, forests, city-scapes, and beaches. We meet the bees, birds, squirrels, butterflies, and other critters with wonder and love. We stand by the sunflowers praising the bees. We walk side by side through time and dreams. Bee On Sunflower, 2018, Chandra S Sherin©

The trees send out a proliferation of seeds in both the Fall and Spring. The amount of persistence required to carry out survival and ancestry. And in the cold climate the leaves burst in orchestrations of color as they die and fall. So much movement and beauty that flows from a stationary being, who is deeply rooted. Red Leaf With Yellow Leaves, 2018, Chandra S Sherin©