Dayna Leslie Hodges

If Only

 

If only I could reign in the sun and

lasso the moon

hold time in slower tempo

I could collect my thoughts

gather memories

spend moments savoring stories

without rush of clock hands

waving at me to hurry up

move on, catch up with time

as it races by without a feeling notion.

 

If only I could hold the sun and moon

in my hands

bottle stars in a mason jar

then I could rest in ample light

bask in moments intimate

wherein my heart could unfurl

in its own tempo

without the world’s dizzy spinning

unraveling me.

 

If only I could experience my mourning

in stillness of perpetual dawn

peaceful and pristine

pure awakening without a heart in hurry

feel my way in the calm of pastel watercolors

heal to my own tune

as a song without limits

a languorous waltz

moving in step with my own tempo

rather than time’s dictates of flash feeling.

 

If only…

If only I could hold time at bay

for just a little while

a season, where I could begin to bloom again.

It’s been raining

for too long a duration

and I need some time

set aside for grieving

where I can flower without breaking

before winter arrives in flurry.

If only…

Ocean Deep

I am ocean not tide pool

I struggle in shallow waters

I thrive in fathoms;

I am more myself in the depths

freer to feel the bell tower calling

and able to answer this call

with treasures discovered while

exploring ocean floor.

In salt water I am buoyant;

I trust I will not sink 

whatever the echo’s reverb.

I will always rise;

my heart is my compass

it navigates toward the light.

I am stars and sunshine

I am moon and deepest midnight sky

I am weightless

I am grounded yet I soar.

In ocean, I am dream

in dream, I am loved.

I breathe upon the waters

currents crest and fall

swells soothe and rock

storms yield silence

as shore collects debris and broken shells

lets them settle into soft sand

until raging sea calms;

memories wait for love

to claim them as their own

and be no longer strewn about.

From fathoms deep

truth anchors and floats ruby gems to the surface

healed brokenness becomes beautiful

and I remain growing

anchored in the deep

with skyward gaze

trusting the tides 

in the deep end of the ocean 

rather than tide pool puddles.