Because She Can't Resist 11.17.19

A woman determined and possessed,
wielding power tools, no less,

left alone in an historic home
will undoubtedly fidget with history
to uncover hidden treasures
and solve the nagging mysteries.

A woman with a hammer
and a prybar in her hand
might be compelled to break and pull
at things that don’t belong,

with glorified ideas
of finding underneath the lies
some old Victorian charm.

She will attend deliberately
to painted wooden trim
with lofty goals to free the wood
and find history untouched within.

She will rip out dated carpet
in search of hardwood floors,
ponder uneven disgrace,
and wonder, what was there before?

She will file her chipped and ragged nails
shrug it off with mild chagrin,
promise herself and a neglected house
to find beauty once again.

A woman with tools and too much time
is a force for renovation,
she will demolish the unwanted
with little hesitation.

She will scratch to-do items off her list
renovate to heart’s content,
consider work and time well spent — 

an investment in herself
and a gift to the beloved house

who gives back in security,
in satisfaction, hope,
and fleeting moments of serenity.

© 2019 K. A. Bennett. All rights reserved.

This poem was originally published in Poetic Ramblings From the Spiritual Abyss on Medium.com.

My Heart Belongs to Sage 11.17.19

My Heart Belongs to Sage

Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash

eternal longing

for rays of healing and warm

desert sunshine days

I used to live in Taos, New Mexico, out near the Taos Gorge, in a sea of sagebrush. The adobe dirt was soft and supple. I still dream of building a clay house to hide in the high desert — a place uninterrupted by the trappings of mainstream society; a place to simply enjoy the sky and create art. For now, my memories remind me of the sun and the smell of sage after a rainstorm. It is enough. For now. 

© 2019 K. A. Bennett. All rights reserved.

This poem was originally published in Poetic Ramblings From the Spiritual Abyss on Medium.com.

Own It!

Photo by Antoine GIRET on Unsplash

Listen to a reading of this poem.

Ownership
of the material
is fleeting and ambiguous.

We borrow space
to simply be
in community

with seven point five billion
other souls
on our wonderous,
spinning home.

We all share
responsibility
to care for one another
and our Mother.

Our occupation
of our Earth
requires an awareness

of our physical actions
and our mental energy

in planned reactions

to give and take
in conscious equilibrium.

Gaia weeps and waits
for balance restoration.

We are One in concert,
creating,
or annihilating our home.

We must live gently
in possession
of the space and place
where Nature exists.

In honor, we are grateful
for air and water and soil,

and remaining opportunity

to fight for our rights
to build a better future
for all.

It’s time now,
in world partnership,
to clean our house
and repair our home.

© 11.14.2019 K. A. Bennett. All rights reserved.

This poem was originally published in Spiritual Ramblings from the Spiritual Abyss on Medium.com

Surrender Into Flow

Photo by Sensory Art House on Unsplash

I reluctantly forgo
my own need and desire
to create reason
out of madness.

It is when I refrain
from playful musings
that the seriousness
of my own unhappiness
sneaks up on me —
an ominous shadow
— apathetic and foreboding.

Desist, black mood —
I resist your call
and subtle attempts
to trap me in
resentment.

I waive my rights
to be morose
and relinquish
all attempts
to control negativity.

With determination,
I quit the trappings
of depression
and find courage
to seek joy and meaning
in life represented.

I abandon myself
to simple creativity
and settle into quiet awe
of birthing new ideas
in anticipated glee.

Serendipity sits
in silent queue
waiting for opportune moments
to appear and be recognized.

I give up and give in
to the Universal pull
that carries me forward
on urges of creative flow.

Unobstructed,
I am free.

© 11.12.2019 K. A. Bennett. All rights reserved. 

This poem was originally published in Poetic Ramblings From the Spirtual Abyss on Medium.com.

Learning to Breathe

Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash

Rampant, wild thoughts,
fleeting,
pass through
and beyond;

silence sits
in concentrated effort
holding space,

timeless grace
in studied breaths
of peace.

© 11.11.2019 K. A. Bennett. All rights reserved.

This poem was originally published in Spiritual Ramblings from the Spiritual Abyss on Medium.com.