Serenity (a poem)

we talk about serenity

but I’m not sure what we mean

there have been times

I was serene

but it’s few and far between

I want it to be a permanent state

of being

an emotion that stretches into

the future, forever

but that’s impossible

like asking to control the weather

so, as days go by

& I grow older

I hope I grow wiser, too

settle for serene moments

instead of reaching for something

that’s beyond my feeble grip

(Photo by Eric Muhr on Unsplash)

What is Happiness? (a prose poem)

What is happiness?

It’s sitting in the comfy chair in the reading nook, next to you while you work away at your desk. It’s our pup laying behind your chair, chewing his favorite toy, completely at peace. It’s our baby girl, purring away sitting on the ottoman next to my feet.

Happiness isn’t money or the nicest things the world has to offer.

Happiness is your kind and loving heart, loving me forevermore.

Wearing my Mask (a poem)

I don’t mind wearing a mask, do you?

It’s a symbol of safety, respect for others

our brothers + sisters living in this crazy world

boys + girls just wanting peace

something to eat

shelter from the storm

born in this age of COVID + conflict –

we rest in our bubbles, away from the troubles

I smile at you behind my mask

you see my eyes bright, hopeful

you know I love you.

(Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash)

Warlike (a poem)

Look at our history, we’re a warlike species

we wish to beat + battle

but can we foster peace?

Piece by piece, we lunge toward an unknown future,

fighting animal instincts –

military tanks rumble toward me,

I step barefoot, bloody over broken glass

armed with a lotus flower

to combat their firepower.

(Photo by Paul on Unsplash)

What’s your Superpower?

I attended an Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) for my mental health in early 2019. It was a few months after my dad had died, and I was in bad shape. IOP helped a great deal, and there was something one person said during group therapy I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

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Everyday Saints

I was a mess in college.

Two years before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I was enrolled at a university in New York with somewhat of a life trajectory, a moral compass, and many good qualities.

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Surrender (a poem)

You think God has left you, that perhaps

you’ve outgrown Him –

we all want to be gods now, in control of the things

that spin around us.

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A Quiet Hour at the Creek (photos)

My anxiety has been getting the best of me lately, but it’s improving. The other day, my grandfather and I spent a quiet hour at a little creek and wooded area in our neighborhood just to get out of the house. It helped.

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Down by the Creek (a poem)

We’re at the creek because this is a happy place

for us – the birdsong is soothing, the trickling water

reminds me these places exist in reality –

not just the online world we live in.

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In the Garden (a poem)

In the garden, I dig my hands into the cool,

dark soil and pull out weeds – it feels so good

to connect with our Mother. The sun is shining

and I can smell the rosebush near the shed,

reminding me not all is lost, that when

we’re all gone, there will be peace again.

(Photo by Ricardo Resende on Unsplash)