Arise thankful

a new day doesn’t mean
forgetting yesterday
but simply letting it go
not to dwell in memories
but to cherish each one
as it pops up and surprises us
and then release it with a smile
the birds are singing of now
our hearts are beating the present
the past is a muted background
enhancing our right-now seize-it life
dawn is painting the picture of today
she invites us to live beautifully —
be the artist of your own soul

—Terri Guillemets

A lesson

Death teaches us meaning
      of the word sudden —
one minute there, one minute
            not —
the blackness, the blankness,
the emptiness, the silence, the void —
the most palpable, oppressing nothing
      there ever was.

—Terri Guillemets

Couch

I long to be close to
where your beating heart
was among its last beats.
I sit on the couch where
we spent your last night —
but cannot bring myself
to sit on the cushion where
life was fading from you
and you laid against me.
I didn’t sleep, for vigilance
you didn’t sleep, for pain —
so tired, so dazed, so lucid,
so knowing, so loved, —
            so gone.

—Terri Guillemets

Lost in thought

We’ve lost, we’re losing,
it’s so much loss, too much.
But the clouds are rolling
and the breeze is blowing
and nature is so beautiful
and the dried delicate leaves
are doing their dance of balance
between hanging on and falling away
amidst their wintry shiverings —
they love the wind
for helping them let go —
they fall to the ground
and the gentle rain comes
and helps them nourish the earth.
A gray bird lands on a bare gray branch
both unadorned, yet so, so beautiful.
And the leaves are drifting
and our lives are drifting
and loss is just another form of beauty.

—Terri Guillemets

Barely knowing

Spring and summer come with a lush layer of foliage over reality, but when things start falling away in the autumn and get bare and stark in the winter we’re forced to look at things more as they really are, including ourselves.

—Terri Guillemets

Value-able

Some see treasure in everything
while some die believing
everyone else struck gold but
never finding any for themselves—
how sad for those lost, bitter beings
who were ever blind of heart.

—Terri Guillemets

Rejoice, lament, meander

Black eyes and broken bones
Rainbows and sugared donuts
Overthinking and over-loving
Have gotten me to this point
And still, I’ve never yet made
A five-year plan — and even if
I did, nothing ever goes to plan
Anyway.

—Terri Guillemets