Until the Promise of Spring

The words dried up
and stuck deep in my throat
before they blew away

I watched them swirl
like the dry autumn leaves
before they were swept up
and dispersed by the winds

Maybe its the season
or a fluke
a phase, the moon
or a moment in time

I’m sure there’s more to say

But for now
the words lay quiet
silenced by blankets of snow
still, resting, waiting
until the sun shines warm with the promise of spring
©Alexis Rose, Image source: Pixabay

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

Behind the Glass

A quick glance to the right
triggered the shiver from the deepest
part of my soul

Like a whisper in the night
bringing memory into focus
I’m stopped in my tracks
and enshrouded
in a dark and heavy fog

A series of photographs
posed, and etched deep inside my mind
play quickly, vividly
like a silent filmstrip
then fades
leaving muted color
and vague felt-sense memory

Lodged behind a scrim
and never completely melting away
I walk along, wondering
what happened on that day
what happened behind the glass when I glanced to the right

Will, it ever be okay
Will, it ever go away


©Alexis Rose; photographer: Janet Rosauer

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

 

 

 

 

The Whispering Dark Shadows

Dark shadows once quiet
whisper
come with me

Tempting me
with safe corners
in darkened rooms

Shadows playing on the wind
then falling
deep into silence
tempting me to follow

I learned long ago
to listen to the shadows
to feel the yin
to acknowledge the damp, deep cold

I’ll settle in
with the softest of down
and multi-layers of love
until the whispering dark shadows
are quiet once again

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

Reflection in the Mid-afternoon of Life

I have a habit of making three or four big goals when I reach a new decade in age. I tend to do a lot of reflecting, and anticipate what kind of adventure I can write for myself for the next ten years. I started doing this when I turned 30. I believe it is because the first twenty years of my life were controlled by others in terrible, sad, and tragic ways. When I broke free of my perpetrators, I understood that I own my life, and I get to decide who I want to be. That revelation and freedom have been an intense/unrelenting driving force for my life since the age of 22.

With this most recent birthday, I’m now (as my friend beautifully described it the other day) in the mid-afternoon of my life. So, with that mid-afternoon sun shining gently on my face, I began to reflect: Did my passion for writing, speaking and trying to destigmatize living with PTSD help others? What was the impact on myself for learning, growth, and change? How can I continue to be a support to this community of survivors as I venture down a different fork in the road?

As I was reflecting, I recalled a wonderful talk given by Arthur Brooks at the Aspen Ideas Festival, titled: Strategies for happiness in life.  In very brief summary, his four points were, “don’t rage against change, teach others what you know, take away the parts of you that aren’t really you, and surround yourself with love.”

I’ve stopped raging against change a long time ago. l respect that change is life. Everything is impermanent, including the feelings I encounter when change happens. I have taken away the parts of me that weren’t authentic, and definitely surround myself with love. My children want me to rest more; to relax, to not be so driven and hard on myself. I heard them; it landed, and I will be more mindful about the message I’m giving myself when the negative self-talk tries to sneak in.

As I hang out and look deep inside in my spirit mirror, I believe this will be a time of deep personal growth, a bit more rest, and a lot of self-acceptance. I’m looking forward to reflection in the mid-afternoon. There is a lot of daylight left, and the evening is still decades away.

photo: Alexis Rose

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph    

It’s Okay; You’re Okay!

It’s okay to just be in the moment
of love, acceptance respect, and friendship

It’s okay to let yourself feel
love, acceptance, respect, and friendship

It’s okay to give
love, acceptance, respect, and friendship

You’re okay and worthy
of being heard, being seen, being loved

The squeeze of a friend’s hand
That reassuring knowing

that whatever version of you shows up
it is okay; that you are okay

Being in the moment
Feeling the love, giving love

It’s okay, you’re okay
And the world shines brighter
Because you are in it!

©words and photo: Alexis Rose

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph      

Message of the Water

I listened to the message of the water
as the waves lapped and splashed on the rocks

At first, I thought it was inviting me
to dive deep
to trust the cool darkness
and the baptizing waves

For the tiniest of seconds
my mind grew dark
as the tricky light of the clouds
passed across the sun

I turned and found the place
where the rocks were both
smooth and rough all at once
full of the earth’s energy
each stone delivering a surge
in both my hands and feet

The waves splashing against
the ancient log told me to
stop ~ listen to waves
feel ~ smell the cool, clean water air
taste the humidity
sit ~ breathe

I heard what the water had to say
its message soft, but loud and clear
it brought a smile to my face
and a relaxed peace to my heart

I listened, my heart listened and I received the message of the water

©words and photo Alexis Rose

Thank you for reading my books: If I Could Tell You How It Feels, and Untangled, A Story of Resilience, Courage, and Triumph