Showing posts from May, 2019

The Sky Weeps

The sky weeps; tap tap tap of rain breaks the silence, and a lone bird cries. Lost in depths of the shadow side, holding onto the darkness because the light hurts your eyes. Heart-shaped raindrop on red-tipped leaf, luminescent bulb, defiant, washed in grief. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

Eight Days after the School Shooting

It's called mortality salience. I know, I study this stuff. It's anxiety tightening around my eyes as I see campus for the first time since, looking into eyes bloodshot in exhausted faces, tears at their corners, bodies bleeding in our fretful sleep. I scan the paper and see we are yesterday's news, reminder that students shot dead in classrooms are everyday sights. Mortality salience. I scan the landscape for last week's memorial flowers on the schoolhouse steps but the steps are bare. The ghostly memory of last week's lit white candles lingers; the classroom building itself,  a visual monument to death. Everywhere I look, a reminder. These eyes remember what they didn't see. Mortality salience. The picture in the back of my eyeballs haunts me. Unexpectedly traveling too close to the edge, and looking down. © Christine S. Davis, 2019


Holy one to whom I pray, universal beingness, here, there, and everywhere. May my heart see the holiness of this and all realms,  and remain awestruck at the wonder of the earth.  I visualize the day  when our world will be filled with the radiance of divine love, a place where everyone follows love’s perfect desires for all  and where perfect loving grace and peace reigns.  May each of us have what we need each day  and may those of us who have plenty,  share with brothers and sisters who have less.  May I reconcile with those whom I have hurt  in thoughts, words, and actions,  and those who have hurt me  in thoughts, words, and actions.  May I focus my sight on the pure light of pure love  and may this light of love burn off all manners of evil,  hatred, greed,  danger,  and fear, that threaten to block the flow of love in this world.  So be it. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019 (Thank you to Katherine for the inspiration)

Blessed be the Wanderers

Blessed be the wanderers, one foot in front of the other, gathering stones, apricot and green-veined crown of thorns, railroad tracks leading onward, dead ends and heart-shaped leaves, crunch underfoot and falling off the path. Yet grounded. Balance unnecessary, the path supports. Blessed be the path, the winding one, and stones, thorns, random driftwood drifting. Blessed be drifting on. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

Release (Cinquain)

Release Let go. Float. Freeing. Cleansing. Lightening. Unclench the holding on. Jump without a parachute and trust the landing will be soft. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

Fifth Day after the School Shooting

Some may say the world’s end occurred that night. Yet, I awake. Life persists after all. Sunrise encroaches on darkness, first light, as day, in turn, always ends at nightfall, and stars shine enough, night sky overhaul. Dusk, meditation, and gin blur the eyes --whatever helps you survive this downfall— from sameness and safety, I empathize-- stare into hate long enough, spirit dies. Can't our hearts break; feel the grief, feel the pain; in the decay’s where resurrection lies. Our world ended that night in a heart stain. The holiest of holies sometimes speaks in whispers. Or wails of distress, tear streaks. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

Centering (Haiku)

Free falling, cocooned in the Om, safe in the black hole of nothingness. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019

Two Days after the School Shooting

How can rustling trees dance their wild dance, shimmering leaves and birdsong symphony; how can sunshine in the sky take a chance, When not yet buried in the grave is he? How can the butterfly, fly so carefree, How can the trees still stand and earth still turn, How are clouds afloat ‘cross the sky, lazy, When the mourners have not begun to mourn? Why don't meetings, work, and email, adjourn? I need some space and time to pause today. I'm drowning in emotions and concerns. I need to not have to know what to say. I do know I will have to find a way, But I'm a little raw right now to start. So can't I wait until a better day? I skinned my knee only it was my heart. Corruption proliferated and greed’s the new normal; not sure how to proceed. © Christine Salkin Davis, 2019