Category: Poems

Daunting

11/11/2017

a blister, a blossom
caught in a toss-up of floundering somdays
and what-ifs and sighs

should she be sheepishly slipping
through time lapses
waiting for someone to see her through
unglazed eyes?

leap, they say,
dare, why not try, take a chance
don't let a daunting debacle derail you!

have faith, they say,
answer your innermost divas
who cling to your apron strings yearning for glory
for knowledge of simple abundance
of pleasure
of all that is promised
within dreaming hopers

"do it" life whispers,
on breath laced with pearls of
unlimitless guidance from
somewhere without.
or within....

okay, i will.
she says.

®Emily Nielsen, 2014

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November - A Poem

11/11/2015

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November is white-blue speckled with brown-rust,
The sun a bold and fuzzy white eye glaring luridly
on scabbed brown squares of frosted earth
Brittle leaves break quickly from bare scaly branches
and gather in windblown heaps among the limp garden beds

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Joyful Affirmation for October 2015 + A Poem

10/25/2015

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The leaves, crimson and sunshine, are cycling down through the crisp air and landing lightly and without a thought, and in the crisp calm clarity of the season I allow myself to let go of those things that no longer serve me.

With the support of the muted light of the sun and the hushed earth below the leaves' blanket, I release the thoughts that dampen my spirit. I gently let go of the people whose presence does not bring me comfort. I allow the hanging anxiety to disperse.

These things can be released like the dry leaves from the ever-sturdy branches that continually reach for light and warmth.

I welcome release, peace, and a safe space to enter into a season of darkness, knowing the lightness of letting go is nourishing for the positive growth of my soul.

October

by Emily Nielsen
2nd place winner, 2015 Idaho Writers Guild Literary Contest, Poetry

A breath like a crinkle
caught in a breeze like Winter's flirty sigh

The sky still clings to blue,
   though my sweater beckons.

Leaves, extraordinary in their bleeding hues
   weave concentric blankets of
   yellow and ash,
   warmth and shadow
   around the silent trunks of trees
   like so many petrified ghosts.

October.

   You shiver in my heightened senses
   Your peculiar mix of
   nostalgia and renewal
   creeping into my collar
   and nudging like a nibble
   between my shoulder blades.

October.

   Warm colors in frigid light
   Early morning begging
   for one more hour of sleep.