Image for post
Image for post
Brett Jordan on UnSplash

Reflections on a Historic Day
1–20–21

Truth-words, gleaming.
Song-words, lilting.
Breath-words, dancing
under sunlight and
fleeting snow.

Voices coax us. Invite.
Come. Come to this edge
of newness where the
winter dove flies free.
Where love enfolds us in
a silent wind-drawn wake.

The world brims with words.
The ones we choose today
will sway our future selves
in tomorrow’s land. Come.

Language spoken, sung,
gestured, thought
directs our emotions and
somatic responses, shapes
our ideas of the world.

Will we despise, or love?
Will we ostracize, or welcome?
Are we in peril, or are we safe?

Life, elevated, invites humanity
into a renewed lexicon of
kindness, honesty, love.
Into new actions of
overdue justice and a
sphere wholly at peace.

Come. Come to this edge
where truth gleams,
songs lilt, and breath dances
from mouths open in awe,
from arms open to the
promise of tomorrow.


Social engagement for a cause can boost mental well-being

Image for post
Image for post
Tim Mossholder on UnSplash

I’m still reeling and recovering from Wednesday.

With everything going on in the world, I constantly ask myself: How do I protect my mental well-being when the world is in chaos? Am I supposed to completely retreat? This is a popular strategy for folks right now, and for good reason. While meditation and journaling are in my self-care toolkit, I’m going to offer an additional perspective on self-care.

I was a hard-core anti-war activist starting in October 2001, when the US invaded Afghanistan, up until 2011 when I got totally burned out. Actually, I got burned out in 2008, but that didn’t stop me. …


Image for post
Image for post
Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

I was six years old when I saw Superman.
My child mind could not reconcile the
difference between actor and character.
Wasn’t I just watching other people’s lives
only magnified before my eyes?

Isn’t this what life will be like
when I get a job and fall in love?

In that dark theatre, Superman
replaced Elvis as Man of My Dreams.

That night I wrote a letter to Superman
inviting him to spaghetti dinner.

“What should I write on the envelope, Dad?”
“Just ‘Superman,’ Honey. He’s so famous
his mail doesn’t need an address.”

Dad assured me Superman would get my letter
and arrive promptly for dinner. …


The Head and the Heart, July 18, 2019

Image for post
Image for post
Photo by UsamaNeal on Unsplash

sandstone outcrops cradled us
in their carved fire belly
as we danced on waves of red ash
dry streamers, vortices
a sheath of glimmering stars above

with arms raised to the darkening sky
we could not distinguish song from wind
nor our bodies from the breezy melody
so warm and womb-like
on our skin

harmonized voices diffused our arms
into easeful wings
as we became the wind
its gentle rocking force
crashing our faces
then we flew

“What is that?” I asked in breathy awe
pointing to the far black horizon

a glowing dome
coliseum of gods in the distance
the moon’s shining forehead crowned
the definitive line of night
its glowing face as rubiginous
as the jagged rocks that flanked…


Image for post
Image for post
Photo by Rob Hampson on Unsplash

a pantoum

I scroll through my phone until my coffee gets cold
After waking from dreams of washing my hands off
Completely off, and the only thing I can hold is fear
Now my anxious mind breaks my body down

After waking from dreams of washing my hands off
Bill Gates estimates 2021 for a vaccine
Now my anxious mind breaks my body down
I suppose I could still go for a hike and breathe

Bill Gates estimates 2021 for a vaccine
How can I escape this chaotic surreality? …

About

Marie-Michele Marchand

I write poetry to capture beauty through language and imagery in hopes of healing myself and the world. mishiepoet.com

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store