Crimson

I hold your bending stem,
crimson red you are-
as I hold you steady,
above what I hold-
so deep within me.
red as my heart,
that cracks open wide-
the rage,
the fear,
the tears,
that holds no promise,
to what was.
I see the veins,
of a once pulsing life-
of when you once lived,
your colors flushing-
into brilliance,
against the cool gray sky.
you curl slightly inward,
towards your dying breath-
I hesitate a moment,
for your beauty-
for a life that once,
belonged to me.
I release it now,
glancing down in the depth-
of the void of unknowing,
I let you go,
as you fall-
into the emptiness,
yes, what was once-
so vibrant and new,
death now becomes you-
but life for me,
will begin again.

Heart's Calling
Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©

Space

I gently cradle,
the space between-
my soul and emotions,
the balance between-
dark and light,
that layers me with-
peace and grace,
I see the beginning's edge-
cut through the dark,
intentions now spoken-
from the depths of me,
New Moon holds this space-
where dark meets light,
on this unfolding night-
what balances the scales,
what takes what howls deep-
and brings it to song,
reaching the bravery of me-
that comes with the conscious step,
allowing it to fall from me-
the heaviness of being,
what no longer belongs here-
let me nestle against the heart,
of the New Moon-
take the space between my breaths,
as sighs,
as prayers,
as thoughts to opening-
allowing love to cover all,
the empty and crying spaces,
bringing release and clarity-
to the becoming of me.
Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg (C)

Push Through

when I want to hold,
myself deep-
hide from the world’s,
rising over me-
I push through…

I push through,
the entanglement of-
wants and needs,
interweaving thorns and weeds-
life will hold,
the worse and the best of it-
I push through…

I push through,
the ache-
the muck,
the breaking it back-
as it falls from me,
behind me-
leaving dust,
pushing through the fire-
that licks my feet,
of me treading through-
emerging and flying,
pass the pushing through...

I push through,
the quiet and still-
the noise engulfing me,
I claim the breath-
that keeps me at ease,
to my surrendering peace-
I push through.

Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©

The Gift

The gift in its giving,
its opening,
receiving,
holds the moment of gathering-
precious mementos,
all in neat little boxes-
I grasp to hold such,
gifts close to me-
but what is given,
can easily be lost or taken away-
the gifts I seek,
unlocks what is inside-
between the deep of me,
I no longer hold what-
the world gives and takes,
what comes to me-
is released to the ashes,
of my memories-
what I cling to more,
than what is tangible or solid-
wrapped with red ribbons,
at Christmas time-
what surpasses time,
and the seasons turning-
held in the gift,
of infinite love-
gift of all gifts,
that rises in my heart-
of my ready living.

Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©

Thank You

When life is sweet, say thank you and celebrate. And when life is bitter, say thank you and grow.
~ Shauna Niequist,