Connection

What is a name?

A name gives us identity.
We can stake a claim
like life itself, it’s ours:
to make, to learn and grow,
to make mistakes

I am a Jen.
It represents my name
in a particular time and place:
The 70s.

Those were quite uncertain times
of war and trauma
and the broken promises
of the American dream.

We all have a choice
even our name

In the end, we are not fixed
like a heavy boulder that sits
and waits to be reclaimed into the earth

We are mineral and bone and flesh.
We breathe and remember that this,
this is us

Mutable like the waters
that can make the biggest stone crack.
We all have that power within

Connection

The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on

How do I get back into flow?
Is there a kink in the system?
Like a hose with a knot
The full force is slowed.

Not completely stopped,
But there is a definite blockage,
A detour.
And my resourcefulness gets turned on.

It lays dormant when life feels easy,
Downstream, and at one with the current.
Less debris
Less diverged channels.

Life has its interruptions.
Where the flow is now a trickle
Does that mean my journey is at its end?
Am I fixated on the muddy tracks of water,
The stagnant spots?

If I look closer, as the sediment has settled,
Things can be clear when I focus.
Sometimes rest, not resourcefulness,
Is in order.

To lie in the earth
To watch the clouds
To catch my breath
To feel rested and recharged, then I’m ready
To begin the journey again.