Deep Roots

On July 11, 2014November 4, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn Poetry10 Comments

Here we are together
many sisters not of flesh but of heart
praying, laughing, resting and learning
gathering strength in a place apart

Be like giant trees
we are told
stretching to the sky
but humbly, firmly rooted in love

This is your strength
to rely on something greater than yourselves
to plant yourselves deeply in something bigger

Those who base everything on themselves
are like rootless trees
towering egos
unstable ‘I’s ready to topple
in the first wind

Let the love of God be your strength
your firm root
your soul’s nourishment

For in this way
your branches will grow
stretching out to embrace the world
touching those around you
with the gentle caress of love

And in your shade
they will find shelter
and the safety to grow themselves

Wash Me New

On June 13, 2014June 13, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn Photos, Poetry2 Comments

I’ve come to sit in the quiet church
to let it all go

The statues and flowers keep me silent company
while upstairs a group of children
sings joyfully to a guitar

There is a giant baptismal font
still filled with holy water from Easter
I want to climb in it and float on my back
staring at the ceiling
like I used to stare at the sky
floating in the lake when I was young

Until all the bitter colours are washed out of me
the blaring colours of anger, fear, resentment, regret…
bleeding out until I am pure white
glowing
new

Empty of everything
but an overwhelming gratitude
for the present moment

Remembering I am a creature
a recipient of endless gifts
my life–each day–a miracle

I don’t need to grip the ropes so tightly
to control the sails
I don’t have to see everything
from the crow’s nest
and constantly consult the map

The real map is in bigger hands
better hands
wiser hands

I don’t need to understand everything

I can lean back
close my eyes and smile
as the salt breeze mixes with my salty tears

Let the sound of the waves
lull me into a place of peace

so I can see this voyage
as a mysterious adventure
and not a problem to be solved
a gift and not a burden

Remember

On May 7, 2014May 8, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn motherhood, Poetry3 Comments

Here is a poem I wrote last year, before I started my blog. I stumbled upon it and thought I’d share it with you now, as the growing warmth of the sun is hopefully bringing up happy childhood memories of summer in all of us.

Remember

I remember sprawling in the grass
in my shorts and t-shirt
making a perfect imprint of myself in the ground
seven years old and utterly at home
as the afternoon sun pulsed red
through my closed eyes

Nothing but the singing of birds
and whisper of butterfly wings in my ears
no thoughts
nothing beyond the moment
perfectly content

Now I’m thirty-two years old
and nine months pregnant
leaning back in my lawn chair
as my toddler snuggles in my lap
and gives me Eskimo kisses

Our resident hummingbird sings heartily
unphased by the vroom and bang
of townhouse construction next door

The faint familiar scent of cut plywood
wafts over the fence to blend with the smell of garden manure

My five year old feeds the chickens
one scrap at a time
and gives me a play by play:
“Rosie ate a piece of lettuce off Chickeny’s back
and the brown chickens are fighting over a tomato.”
“Mmmm…so funny,” I reply sleepily.

That same afternoon sun pulses down
red on my closed eyelids
and out of my mind
too tired for thoughts
begins to float poetry

Images of Silence

On March 26, 2014March 26, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn Poetry4 Comments

I.
The still water reflects the beauty of the sky
gorgeous billows of blue-tipped clouds
The rippling water has a busy beauty of it’s own
but takes all the attention for itself

Sometimes the noise of so much chatter
(mostly my own)
becomes like a wind which

blows out my interior candle

I need some silence
some still air
to let the flame rekindle
to warm the ember to a steady glow
burn brightly enough to heat me
from the inside out
light streaming forth
my eyes as stained glass
shining

II.
The still morning lake
sits silent
grey and reflective
full of slightly fuzzy trees
solemnly upside down
green but not laughing

The majestic cedar trees
wave their thin green hands
ever so slightly
like ancient queens
acknowledging their people
who celebrate with the sudden confetti
of falling snow

Down below, the dew-spangled moss twinkles
and the ferns bow their heads shyly
Slippery salaal leaves shine
next to delicate huckleberry bushes
not yet adorned with tiny red berries

I’ll have to come back
in the summer

In the mean time
all these pieces of beauty
fill up the puzzle of my soul

III.
Sitting here in the quiet chapel with
tall windows like eyes into the forest
I watch the snow fall against the cedars
like mercy from heaven
a gentle steady blessing
a constant message of beauty
a gift from one greater
ever reaching towards me
I am here I am here I am here

The snow falls
and my sleeping baby
breathes warmly on my chest
The candles glow
and the lake calmly receives
the many kisses of snowflakes

Belly Poem

On March 14, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn motherhood, Poetry18 Comments

There’s a poem in my belly
Encrypted in code
A little tiny story
Waiting to be told

It’s curled up tight
in its tiny red room
little tiny heart beating
to the rythm of my womb

On publishing day
It’ll be so fine
To see my little poem
Come out and shine

Its path in the world
is yet unknown
but with time and love
it will be shown

Then my little poem
will shout out its song
unfurl it’s beauty
and sweep us along

Its story is just starting
But it’ll end never
Cause this little belly one
Is a poem to last forever

Only Stillness

On January 29, 2014January 29, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn Family Life, Poetry2 Comments

!!
All of a sudden
the lights are out
at 7 pm
just as we’re starting dinner

It becomes a candlelit meal
peaceful
our family enclosed
in a small circle of light
my children’s faces
illumined by the tiny flames

There is nothing else to rush to
no dishwashers or dryers
no email or phone
so we linger around the table laughing
as our three year old
makes up silly stories about babies
and bunnies and when she was little
and used to be a toy and a chocolate

The kids pile easily into their new double bunk beds
with the LED lantern lighting up
their imaginary campground

The baby gives up
cooing at the candle
and lets me rock him to sleep

It is so quiet
there is only stillness
and this small circle of light

“Poèmes en Route de la Poubelle”

On January 28, 2014January 28, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn Family Life, Poetry2 Comments

You know when you’ve been stuck inside for a few weeks with sick kids, and your world has become very small and stuffy (yes, we’ve been keeping the window open, but still…), and you almost forget that anything exists behind your front door? And then you have the chance to emerge, even briefly, into the sunshine to take out the trash, and everything is so fresh and crisp and incredibly beautiful that you start spouting poetry? Well, that’s been happening to me lately.

The neighbours must shake their heads as I gaze around like a love-struck mole emerging from her tunnels and start blabbering ecstatically:

It’s so beautiful! There’s a whole world out here! The sun is so shiny and the birds are so chirpy! My soul rejoiceth whilst removing the rubbish…

Aha, there she goes again. The garbage poet. It’s pathetic. Always writing about trash.

Well, as long as my poems don’t actually belong in the garbage…

Perhaps Oscar the Grouch and I could write a book together. One of those great debate books…two opposing figures hash it out about life, love and excursions to the garbage can.
We’ll be fancy and call it “Poèms en route de la poubelle.”

I had been feeling a bit like this:

So I took a brief back yard escape:

And saw green and growing things like rosemary:

And winter kale:

A pretty statue:

A little escapee who flew over the fence of her coop:

The others watched her so longingly as she grubbed for worms that I released them, too.

They made such a mess mucking about in the fresh manure in the garden that they had to return to their confinement, and me to my duties…Meanwhile my three year old had snuck upstairs to my friendly neighbours, wailing in search of her missing mummy, whose aforementioned excursion outside was of unacceptable duration…

Ah, but it was beautiful while it lasted…

Star Gazer

On January 27, 2014January 27, 2014 By Anna EastlandIn PoetryLeave a comment

I step outside
the night is quiet and dark
but the stars in the far-off dome of the sky
are piercingly bright

Something stirs within me
a longing for the infinite and indescribable
a feeling that if I had jetpacks on my legs
and a special suit
like Iron Man
I’d take off without a moment’s hesitation
to explore those stars

to try to touch that light
that’s been travelling here for millions of years
from new born stars
now ancient

Evening Romance

On January 8, 2014July 10, 2019 By Anna EastlandIn Poetry2 Comments

Tonight I feel wrapped in romance,
listening to mellow piano solos
and dancing with you.

All the highschool dances
I danced alone
cease to matter.

Every girlish dream
for a love worth serenading to the stars
fulfilled.

Imaginings of dancing ballet
on a grand stage with sparkling lights
played out here in my living room,
under the glowing Christmas lights
I still have up
though it’s past New Year’s.

Not needing a million romances
I’ve found one love
to make my heart overflow:
my sweet husband, my best friend,
our four little girls
with all their hugs and laughter,
and you, my adorable baby son,
sleepy little lovely you.

Just East Of Crazy Land

Category: Poetry

Deep Roots

Wash Me New

Remember

Images of Silence

Belly Poem

Only Stillness

“Poèmes en Route de la Poubelle”

Star Gazer

Evening Romance

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