She stepped cautiously along her path, the slippery slope of her worth
The summer sun melting remnant childlike curiosity, evaporating her last droplets of glimmer and shine
A balance of steps between logic and hope
A wish for belonging, self-preservation, quenching love and solace
She reminded herself that her thirst will be her assured slip, the last bump to a bottom she already knows
In her caution she stopped and questioned
Why is she entertaining less than love, when worth is her only home
Moments
Ubiquitous time resting in polarities of heartache and eternal euphoria. A loving glance, touch, etched in the permanence of our hearts with love. Spoken anger and impatience, how I wish we could move space and gently fold back time. The sweet smell of warm August nights and honeysuckle, to remind us of the days, less worry and bountiful joy. The sound of a siren passing by in an otherwise ordinary moment, resurrects the sharp memory of the day our lives changed forever. Sunday mornings, the quiet, a gift bestowed on us, to reset, rest, and gently remind us to settle into the rituals of nurturing routine and simplicity. Looking out the window of the airplane on the way to say goodbye to a loved one, as you fly above the clouds you find peace and understanding that the universe is made of so much more than our limited senses comprehend. That first bite of warm apple pie that transports you to sitting at your Grandmothers table and the ever-present scent of cinnamon in her kitchen and the comfort of her unwavering love. Our moments, akin to a leaf floating on the ocean, she flows with the tide, the sun and moon decidedly dictate her path. The leaf surely experiencing days of glorious sunshine and tumultuous storms, all the while floating, always moving and never in control. Her story started long ago, she has travelled from limb to land, with tales of wind and glory. Equally fragile and strong, storing moments, built on a continuum connected time . The leaf of autumn, much like you and I. Glorious in her lifelong story, travelling in moments, without a sound.
By Alisa Hutton
Natural causes, supernatural destiny
the birth of beauty in its truest form
pain staking discomfort, transformation
giving up, letting go, stepping in to isolation and darkness, powerless to natures chosen path
resignation that this body, this perceived dwelling of self no-longer serves that but the hungry bird, just a morsel for hungry souls
in the damp, unknown and unfamiliar
Metamorphosis
Upon birth the butterfly is simply waiting to be born
-Alisa Hutton
Standing in the eye of the storm
In the middle of natures polarity
A fierce grey splash to remind you of your current home
The intense feelings; freeze or flee and pray for pass
The eye of the storm, the only way out
Leave your comfort and fear and walk into the unknown
By Alisa Hutton
The dance between dusty thoughts and childlike giggles
Dark skies while sipping on my pain
Simplicity is savored in a porcelain tea cup, it’s a Bergamot kind of day
Paralyzing grief served on Friday’s plate
Numbed by uninhibited dancing on Saturday with a random fake
The day will dawn
The night will darken
Who I am in this moment
With just one sentence
Is perfectly forgotten
By Alisa Hutton
Peeling glances, thick with the deep churn of her buried unspoken
The sharp will notice, the simple will be her safety but so easily forgotten
She will tell you ,her words must be followed
You should nod your head and always listen but take note of her eyes, for that is the path she hasn’t spoken
She will beautifully float with the most feminine poise and grace
Then seemingly without notice she will leave you covered with ice in her politely distant way
She is full of dimension and rivers that run deep to places we would all be so fortunate to see
Almost untouchable, she will inevitably make you travel the long road to her tender heart
The greatest fortune of your life?
She only falls in love with the uniquely attentive and charmingly sharp
Don’t kid yourself, it is only by her choosing and when her time is right
By Alisa Hutton
When did scarcity roll over you, wilting you timid and fearful?
What darkened childhood tale shadowed your lightness and spirit, giving away your bold?
Who changed you so short that your worth became socially outsourced to the new and unknown?
When the sun rises it reminds us with furious beauty that moments are spectacular. Well thought plans, penned goals and shiny thoughts trivial pursuits of those who will never grow.
The rain that drenched you with indignation, coming unannounced on a summer day? The universes way of tapping you awake to all you never will control.
What happened between the first moments your eyes opened to the universe to where you stand today? Unable to muster the courage to stutter the words your heart desires, I miss you, I love you, please don’t go.
Our heart and our soul intuitively tells us when we are home.
An unspoken settled place is our being, a warmth, a person who undoubtedly many lifetimes we have known.
Tell me, when did scarcity roll over you?
Leaving you all alone.
~Alisa Hutton
Empty wells, star filled buckets
Darkened skies, moonlight droplets
Paradoxical moments
Deeply woven and never forgotten
~Alisa Hutton
The sun on your back no longer offering warmth
Heaviness filling space that desires just a moment of rest
Each breath, tired
Close your eyes until the sun sets, let it fall
Somewhere in the breeze spirit will whisper
Dawning, a new day
~Alisa Hutton
The lingering embers of sweet grass on cold October nights
Dew on the morning honeysuckle that warmly wrapped us in July
Star-dust trailing across a seemingly never-ending August sky
September rains, the forest and full moon tide
Tiny breathes in December as snowfall blankets outside
Opening blooms and light announcing May has arrived
Sipping a warm latte while bundled on the beach, moments in April’s time
Laughter and glances, Shiraz, the scent of March for you and I
You asked what your scent was
It is the softness and perfection of taste, memory and time
~Alisa Hutton
dustedwords 