EXPOSED by Louise Gallagher Exposed bare naked limbs leafless hanging on to memory of a branch fallen against wind-worn trunk standing stalwart against time and weather battering limbs and breaking boughs made fragile by the wind blowing relentless through your branches sheltering the sap within that flows more slowly now with each passing season. I lean against your body scars and ridges harsh against my cheek. I too am facing time’s relentless pull I whisper into the wrinkles etched upon your weathered skin. My body tells the same story of time passing of life lived sometimes walking with the wind sometimes against my limbs move, not as smoothly now, the bones more fragile able to break with one fall yet still I stand stalwart against time while inside the blood flows sluggish as I weather life’s journey leaving me exposed to each passing season.
Airborne by Louise Gallagher She wandered through her days like a leaf tossed by the wind aimless, directionless, weightless her heart aching her feet leaden tethered to some invisible thread of memory caught in the veil of yesterdays lying in the darkness of believing she did not know how to fly. It’s not true. You are born to fly, a voice deep within whispered in one of those moments when her attention grew weary of the world beyond the pale of all she could not see in the here and now leaving her exposed to the exquisite mystery of her life. She didn’t believe it the idea of flight seemed too impossible the mystery too deep. She had feet, not wings she whispered back, closing the door on chance as she turned back into certainty. But then, one day when she least expected it she felt the urging to stretch beyond the realm of her imagination and on that day she discovered her wings hiding beneath the layers of life hammering at her to stay tethered to threads of memory keeping her tied to life’s heavy toll. It was that day she discovered she was born to fly and her dreams were too.
Beautiful Tender Mercy ©2021 Louise Gallagher One day, when you least expect it you will stand at the threshold of your heart and hear its pounding insistence you step across the liminal space between not loving yourself and loving yourself with all your being awakened to every beat of your heart. In that moment, you must choose between staying locked in the darkness of believing your flaws and many imperfections are too wide and bulky to fit through the doorway to your heart or stripping away the heaviness of your belief you do not deserve your love because you are so imperfect and scarred and scared of loving yourself you will never be free of the fear of loving yourself. To choose to stay locked in darkness is easy. It’s the comfortable shirt you’ve worn forever. The one you thoughtlessly put through the washing cycle so often you no longer worry about putting the machine on delicate. You know this shirt is tough enough to take your abuse. But, to risk stripping away the shirt and tearing it to shreds. To risk standing exposed with all your scars and scared self naked to the prying eyes of imperfection. Ah, well that is the penultimate act of courage you will ever commit. One day, you will stand at the threshold of your heart and be asked to commit to loving yourself in all your wounded, flawed beauty. On that day you will know the sound of freedom is not a song sung by those with the courage to climb every mountain and ford every sea. It is the sound of your heart falling deeply in love with the perfection of the beautiful tender mercy of being held in the loving embrace of your arms wrapping themselves around your heart as you whisper joyfully, I Love You..
Perhaps ©2020 Louise Gallagher In a rush to make-meaning in all that has happened in all that has gone wrong or right in all that has been lost or gained I lose myself in the desperate struggle to not feel what I tell myself has been lost. Perhaps in my struggle to make it all make sense or have a purpose or fit into a box that only I can see I lose sight of all I cannot see. Perhaps, the meaning is in the experience. Perhaps, the making sense does not make sense. Perhaps, when I allow the purpose of everything to be the experience of everything without holding on to it all without fearing losing it all without judging it good or bad acceptable or unacceptable necessary or unnecessary I will find myself in that liminal space where all I have and all I am and all I know are nothing more than all I have to let go of. And, perhaps when I let go of naming all I have all I lost all I won all I know I will find myself in all I am. Perhaps then I will experience the all that I am as the most precious gift of all.
In the Dread of Winter’s Grip by Louise Gallagher November 2020 An arctic wind nips in eager expectation of the sun’s waning light as shadows lengthen and geese fly south in sisterly formation beneath a moody November sky. And memories of summer blooms fade in the lengthening shadows that herald the approach of winter's kisses. Silently, as vapid sunshine seeps stealthily across the far horizon a frosty chill descends upon the pristine stillness of a wintery landscape lulled to sleep beneath a blustery grey sky. And the promise of spring waits patient deep beneath the silence of snow falling into the dread of winter’s grip.
The Poetry of A November Sky by Louise Gallagher Under a November sky slate grey streaked with the promise of snows yet to fly, the river flows gun metal weary. The trees bend branches naked to the wind that swoops down in streams of icy persistence from Arctic realms. And still,nature dances in hoar frost glory kissing barren limbs with shimmering finery that sparkle like glittery stars cast upon a velvety blanket of leaf strewn earth covered in autumn hues of red and gold and auburn. And deep beneath the silent earth summer flowers sleep dreaming of spring blossoms. Beauty flows through every season.
2020 Louise Gallagher
Fear lurks in darkened corners
stirring thoughts into worry.
The future seems too far away
The memory of breath interrupts your fear.
Gasping at the truth,
you need your breath,
you breathe. Deeply.
Fear slips out on the exhale.
Love flows in on the inhale.
You breathe easy in the certainty,
this moment, right now, is enough.
This breath, right now, is enough.
This is enough to sustain you
in these uncertain times.