Present, Tense

My breathing is too shallow.

Playing with computer art can
be a de-stresser too!

Sure it gets the basic job done,

but that's it. Good stuff in,

and bad stuff out, the lungs are

doing fine, I guess.

Unless.

Deep breaths remove

the toxins, slow the beating 

of my heart. I need some air and space, 

a cool breeze reaching blowing past 

my skin and muscles all the way

to bone and marrow.

In the moment, staying present ...

but my present's tense.

I sense the need to be alone

upon the rug, what passes for

a sukhanasana  unless

that frightens you and then

it's criss-cross applesauce and just

that thought is irritating,

that the way I drape my body

could be judged and just 

because of what I call it.

At  present, I am feeling

not just cross but

also tired and snappish

'cause I'm breathing wrong.

 Maybe thinking wrong as well. 

(c) Ellen Gillette, 2022  

Bridge

Like a bridge that's built to give a little

under stress, allow for weather and for weight,

I wonder how much more this little heart

can take today. The heaviness. Concerns,

catastrophes that build, one sitting nicely on

the one below. You know at some point it

will topple over, you just hope you're not

there underneath the load, that something,

someone will have grabbed your hand and

pulled (at least) a moment sooner, and offered

you a hug, a touch, a glass of wine, some oxygen,

a pillow to prop up your head, a foot rub,

pleasant music, candles maybe, something

nice to eat, a smile, a poem, warm cloth

to wash the dirt away, a bandage for that scrape,

the promise that there's someone on the earth

that cares and understands that little heart

with so much love to give it hurts.

(c) Ellen Gillette 2018