Seasons

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Cold winds that blew through your deepest chambers

How you longed for genuine warmth

Icy droplets that bit at your light falling from never-ceasing grey skies

The tap of consciousness reminding you, mind who you invite to your table in good nature

The freeze that arrived that one night hardening your most precious vulnerabilities

You hear the echo of the dull thud of your soul as it hit the floor, followed by your needed wake

Yesterday, I sat in a moment

Warm winds gently blowing

The afternoon sun warming my face

Sand between my toes, the waves lapping the tides in their unique chime

Breathing in the salt air, the ocean whispered in its unique filling way

Trust yours seasons as they brought you here

Today

~Alisa Hutton

A Wrinkle On My Soul

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A wrinkle on my soul

There is no pressing it new to adorn even lines and flat conformity

I cannot, will not, have it streamed and hung to appear as when it was born

Creased in time and life, words and love that have ripped and bloomed remind me all that has been torn can also be sewn

 

A wrinkle on my soul

I once tried to wear new clothes and hide my less than perfect form

I cannot, will not, wear the dress society has made the norm

Creased in time and life, my lines are here to remind me what you and I feel is our style, unique our own

A wrinkle on my soul

Dress it with pride knowing it is the reflection

Of a life

Honestly worn

~Alisa Hutton

Bottom

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The swallow of darkness

Grotesquely gorging on your good spirit like a rabid animal

Spitting out your zest for life effortlessly like that tooth you chipped when you were seven

You remember when you were seven, right?

That was when you learned how to tread water

It went something like this, keep moving, hurry up or you will sink to the bottom

So you learned to tread water

Don’t confuse it with floating, you learned that when you were around ten

I believe they yelled at you to lay on your back, relax and breathe or else you will sink to the bottom

So you learned to float

Sink or swim, do or die, don’t ask, just do

That is how is was

That is how it is

I remember that day when you did actually sink to the bottom, looking up through the clear waters at all the people who didn’t notice

Just a little person who was left alone but it came with such clarity

There was something peaceful about it, oddly assuring finally knowing how alone you were

Quiet and serene, finally something so calm and safe

You didn’t feel the panic of treading water or floating any longer

A funny little moment in time where it all stood still

Just you looking up from the bottom

As the swallow of darkness arrives, gorging as it does

Just like that day you sank and how you didn’t see it coming

You are reminded of those who didn’t notice you at the bottom, who never saw you sink

Maybe they never really cared if you did?

The same ones who gave ill advice on how to tread water and float

Funny

As all you ever really needed to know was that you were the only one who could feel what it was like to sit at the bottom

And

It is only you

Who gracefully knew how to rise back up to the top

~Alisa Hutton

Season

mundy

It is with great comfort to know a season has filled it’s purpose

To have the gentle awareness, knowing

Confidence in nature and self that the storms and sunshine served what they should, as they should

The dark and light that came with equal abundance were simply creating the necessary environment for that seasons growth

To sit in quiet, with a calm trust that this season has fully bloomed

Embraced with the honor a season deserves

Presence. Attention. Care.

What a curious and magnificent gift it is bid farewell to a season

A sadness, for the heart knows this season came with such story, legacy and imprint on the soul

Yet, with gratitude and knowing she and you have served your purpose with a mutually respected and compassionate flow

What a gift it is to love and live a season and the deep wells it leaves in your soul

~Alisa Hutton

A Fine Mist

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Love you feel, unspoken

That long hug you want to extend, never given

Desires so deeply churning inside, forever hidden

Instincts of vulnerability wrapped and boxed, echoed silent thoughts

Perception of a safe life and uniformity held with higher regard than the breath that gives you life

Your heart beat reflects not the love you feel but the tick of your beating clock

With a heart full of love and a soul cracked wide open

I wonder with curiosity

Why you are watching it all disappear like a fine mist floating through your fingertips

~Alisa Hutton

Nothing More

Nothing More

There is no practicality

I laid beside a stranger who was wheezing her last breath

Two things were not as we expected

My life

Her death

Side by side and equally alone

Curiously, our shared space perhaps was meant to be

I spoke with a woman who had but a few weeks to live

It was not planned or marked on her calendar

Curiously, she spoke with a calm confidence that this was her given time

She said honey trust me you just know

A man now bed ridden, his strength slipping away and out of his control

His strapping youth and forever quick mind he seemingly left at home

He hadn’t packed his favorite things for his stay at the hospital as he never planned to go

Curiously, when I told him I would see him soon he smiled with a simple knowing

No my dear, this is it for me and after this visit you probably won’t

I watched a little boy as color drained from his face, knocking loudly on heaven’s door

This isn’t how I see him, he plays and laughs, giggles and smiles

Get your hands off his little body, this, what is happening

None of it is what I ordered

Please, whoever you are that reaps in your dark and sudden ways

Take me and do what you will and let that little boy go

Through a tiny window

In a moment of life

I saw raw human souls

Horrific things, death and sickness that have forever shaken me to my core

I didn’t know what to do, I dropped to my knees

I held the hands of those entering deaths door

My heart was soothed, my eyes opened and my human fabric will forever know

This life

Our hearts

Those things that our egos think matter and we should know

Nonsense

There is no practicality

I sat on the fence of life and death watching souls come and go

There is only one thing you need to have as you walk through life on your way to deaths door

Love

Simply that, nothing less and nothing more

~Alisa Hutton

Ms. J. Doe

Jane Doe

Today I looked in the eyes of a woman I did not know

Laying quietly across from one another in a hospital corridor

Twice my age, quietly breathing the end of her story

I looked in her eyes and they seemed to mirror my own

I saw fear, sadness and loneliness in my reflection

Hers, the same deep brown as mine and tilted in similar bend

Yet, they were somewhere else

A place I didn’t know, a place that made me uncomfortable

As we laid quietly in our separate but shared space, I thought is this what it is all about?

Do we eventually end up in a corridor alone?

No comfort of love, no familiarity of a life known or lived?

No hand holding ours, no last I love you?

Does our story end with a stranger in a hall, the only comfort our own?

I couldn’t help but feel my life had been deeply scratched for a reason unknown

Something of this was meant to echo

Was it meant to reverberate a space?

Is it meant for me to open or close?

I really don’t know

I hope she could feel that I saw her life beside me and I felt her soul

I have to believe in the end

It is about something more

Than being alone in a corridor

­~Alisa Hutton

Tsunami

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Sadness

Deep sadness

It is as though you are standing on the shore watching a wall of water come in

No matter what direction you look or how far you tilt your head back

Just a wall of powerful water, a Tsunami

You feel small

You are small

You wonder will it knock you over or leave you unconscious

Where it will take you, will you know your way?

Will you even survive? Do you even want to?

Will anyone notice you were swallowed up by the ocean?

Grief

Spirit sucking grief

It as though in a moment of sunshine someone dives in to your chest violently grabbing your heart

You don’t expect it, you never do

It comes at 3 am and shakes you awake, running away with your breath

You try to catch it, gasping, choking

You can’t

The lights are turned on

Except your light

Your light is out

Total darkness

You wonder if anyone can see you if you can’t see yourself?

Walking around with your weighted vest, heavy

Nothing else

Just useless weight

Tears become quiet, unpredictable, constant

You hope maybe they wash it away, even a little

You just want some relief, less pain

The grief hurts

The sadness hurts

It all hurts in ways that words cannot express

Does anyone out there know

Can anyone tell me

How to not love?

~Alisa Hutton

The Only Things Left

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Reaching in to my pockets

My hands alone felt my purchased warmth

My cup poured full

Fine wine that few can afford

My thirst for rich quenched only my own

Building my house on a wink and smile

Walls so high they looked down at most

 

A flashy car that only fit two

My fat wallet steering the beast

A lane called fast

The steel choice I made for you

Ego and secrecy riding warmly along

Risk versus reward, go big or go home

I wondered why I felt so alone

Conscience and values quietly sleep in the trunk

 

Stories and life can never be unwritten

Run fast and run far

Close your eyes tight

Still, your past can never be undone

Put down your cards and tear down your walls

Toss your money to the winds that blow power and worth in to the direction of right

Time cannot be bought and never should have been for sale

 

Take your change and what remains

The only things left to offer and all that ever was

My heart

My time

Nothing less, nothing more

Dust yourself off  and never again

Walk through that darkened door

~Alisa Hutton

Shallow Waters

 

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Inhaling sadness

Exhaling only to make room for more

Laying still in her shallow waters

Lapping tides remind her she has felt the wash before

Blinking once

A familiar passerby walks around her, not to lose path of their own linear destination

Blinking twice

A second familiar passerby walks over her, not to interrupt their better path of linear destination

She closes her eyes only to be awoken by those lost on the belief of linear destination

Exhaling she makes room for more

Circular upwards, a lesson we all eventually learn

Like leaves blowing in the wind

She leaves them to lay alone in their destined shallow waters

~Alisa Hutton