Shields

what is the nature of your intentions?

grabbing the warrior’s shield

hanging in the great hall

what do you fear more?

the maiden who carries a knife in her boot

knowing her aim hits its mark

or that you cannot protect her from yourself

will you chain and lock yourself in the tower

when the full moon reaches its orb

transforming before the mirror

unprotected by shields from yourself.

 

(c) Amanda Wilson 2014

 

 

One of Those Days

Getting out of bed,

my bare foot lands in cat vomit,

brown water flows out of my shower,

too much on my to do list,

an even greater desire to say,

“Fuck it!”

chuck the list in the trash,

a teething baby when my head throbs,

usual coffee fix isn’t cutting through my mental haze,

oh what I wouldn’t do,

for a smile or a kind word on one of those days.

 

(c) Amanda Wilson 2014

Bittersweet Symphony

Vision springs to mind,

How tea tastes bitter without sugar,

You search cupboard for the sweetness,

Finding nothing there.

~

We cannot escape from where,

We find ourselves in this moment,

Wanting for tea and scones,

Sitting alone at the table.

~

Symphony where notes played out of pitch,

I am not following your tempo,

You are not strumming the chords,

We hear the dissonance.

~

Missing each other’s daily beat,

Most days there is this yearning,

What happened to how you smile,

Hearing now bittersweet symphony.

 

(c) Amanda Wilson 2014

 

 

 

Women’s Locker Room

smell of sweat mingled with feminine mystique

it’s just her who briskly towels off

quick shower aftermath at 6 am

aching muscles screaming after winning against herself

pushing past her own personal best

it’s too early for the crowd

who cluck and peck as their flaws:

” My ass is too big…

what can I do to get a thigh gap…

how many crunches does it take to get a flat stomach…”

she runs the brush through her hair

zips up her jacket before smiling in the mirror

morning secret for just herself

 

Run…run…run

Oh how we distract ourselves,

from expectations gone awry,

subject behind our addictions,

such silent afflictions,

so afraid of what society does spy,

scared sheep placing dreams onto shelves.

~

Lost in the fear of suffering,

run…run…run…

don’t dare to look back at your reflection,

calling ourselves the names we hear,

ego tripping on itself,

when I choose courage over fear,

residing in a joyful moment,

when I stand my ground.

Grace

Not one to call attention to herself,

mouth set in quiet determination,

lady even dressed in overalls and rubber boots,

standing in the muck.

~

She is beauty speaking quietly,

forgiving sin before the prayer,

the sweetest sound heard by the wretched,

transgressor pleading on his knees.

~

She is Pistis Sophia,

close to God’s heart,

she’s where he sends his creative motion.

~

Seeker calls her by many names…

she is like the Crane soaring in the sky,

Buddhists light their hopeful incense,

seeking Kuan Yin’s guidance.

~

Compassion found in lowliest places,

filled rice bowl for the street urchin,

warm blanket for the homeless,

where we witness,

God’s heart moving others to grace.

Waking the Tiger

She slept in her dreamy meadow,

underneath the safety,

of a shady Bodhi tree…

A fierce yet lone protector of,

her carefree cubs tumbling over, 

one another and climbing the tree’s branches.

She slumbers inside you and I,

our secret sanctuary.

Until the world outside makes its challenge.

She will fight for herself; for her love.

Do you dare to awaken the tiger?

What wonders flow from her eyes burning bright,

In the darkness of the silent night.

 

(c) Amanda Wilson 2014

 

Recovery

I really appreciate the deeper meaning of the lyrics in James Arthur’s song “Recovery.” The journey of healing is a highly personal one. It can feel like one is a soldier in an army of one. No one can direct you down the path that is best for your own healing. Those who love you can support you along the way, which helps you feel less alone. Hope that you enjoy this acoustic version of his song.

Amanda