All posts tagged recovery

“Check, Mate”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Q – QR5

Q x Q (!!)

Kn x Q


Why drop your mouth in amazement?

You dangled her right in front of me, daring me—

You’re the one who thought I’d run

And do all I could to hang onto something

So obviously important

In order to keep her in

Reserve for later,

Just in case…

“I never expected you to do that”—

You’re damned right!

I’ve learned it’s better to not have expectations;

That way, I can never be disappointed again.

You took it for granted that I would

Never make such a huge sacrifice—

As a result, it cost you your most precious piece,

Your Queen,

And, ultimately, the game.


Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Like a chimp swinging

Branch to branch

Easily through the trees,

Attaching itself firmly

To the next before

Releasing the

Hold it had on the last,

Being mindful of the branch’s location

In case it needs to fall back on that

Anchored limb left behind.

Maybe the branches will tire and

Refuse to take part in this

Game being played

And let the chimp fall to travel

On its own two feet.

“Kundalini Totem”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Along the path I see him

Nestled on a fallen log

Awaiting my arrival.

Are you the one?


Should I fear you?

Only arroganccccccccce issssss complete abssssssencccccce of fear

In the faccccccce of the unknown…

Coiling ‘round my feet

Rising gyres

Upward spirals;

A slithering embrace

Brings me face to face

With the yellow eyes of green Kundalini.


Diving into my throat without warning,

Burrowing toward the heart;

A dull tugging at this chakra

As Kundalini continues


To exit from the vulva,

Carrying in his mouth

A large, black mass from within.

One bite of his fangs

Releases a yellow ooze

From the dark lump;

The poison of my pained heart

Puddles on the ground.


Transmutation begun

But not complete…

“Shamanic Journey”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Down, down, down

To the drumming sound

Damp, dark steps

Descend to the depths

To the womb of our Earth Mother.


This earthen smell

Leads not towards hell

But to the part

Where beats the heart

Of the love of our Earth Mother.


The tunnel floor

Reveals a door;

Once opened wide

There is inside

The realm of our Earth Mother.


Leave fear behind

In hopes to find

The spirit guide

Who dwells inside

The heart of our Earth Mother.


Be welcomed by our Mother.


Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

A tap root emerges from deep within my womanhood

Plunging downward to pierce the ground beneath my feet

Penetrating, tunneling, driving toward the

Throbbing pulse of the Mother

Through layers down to where the

Core expands as a crystal cavern

Gleaming white, bright light

Surrounding a warm, deep pool

That accepts the presence of my root.

Drinking deeply of the Mother’s love,

Sending it pulsating up through the tap

Into the depths of my own cavern;

Its throbbing energy stirs the senses,

Commanding my full attention.

Arms outstretched reach toward the sky,

Lengthening, branching out

To embrace the warmth of the sun,

Drawing his energy into my limbs;

An electrifyingly intense current

That seeks out the pulsating rhythm in my womb,

There to unite with the Mother,

With me,

Mingling sensations of an internal dance;

Cosmic energy now contained.


I am one with the Earth,

One with the Sky,

Their united power in me.

“Your Gardening Angel”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Blooming cosmos and snapping dragons

In a patch of sweet serenity;

Passion flowers and

Passionate hearts

Beautify the face of Mother Earth.

Summer rains bring

Occasional wet wings

And a tipped halo or two,

But the angels toil tenderly

To the music of

Water falling


Against the rocks.

Lilies bob as fish and frogs play

Hide and seek

With the dragon fly;

Brown spider tirelessly tends her web

Among the terra cotta;

The hum of a Kubota in the distance

Lulls the senses.

Ahh… dreaming away again in Martha Stewartville.

“An Awakening”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

A blithe fairy released from a three-decade slumber

Awoke in a blossoming rose–

Fear and despair

Had trapped her there,

Escaping from all her woes.


Till one day there came a Lady fair

Who discovered a withering bloom–

She tended and fed

The flow’r in its bed

Dissolving the spell of gloom.


It flourished under her tender care;

The pain of the past washed away–

The rose opened wide

With the fairy inside

Bringing hopes for a brighter day.


She smiled and she stretched and she tested her wings,

Lightly touching the blooms of her bed —

This Celtic delight

Was prepared to take flight

And she circled the Lady’s head.


“How can I thank you?” the fairy proclaimed.

In reply, the kind Lady smiled–

“It was not only me

Who set your soul free–

‘Twas the love for our Inner Child.”

“Lilies, Roses, and the Keeper of the Wood”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Two beds lay side by side in the midst of a tangled wood;

One with lilies, one with roses—an overshadowed rainbow.

Years of neglect left them choking on weeds

Till the Keeper of the Wood happened by.

Moved by their beauty and pitying their plight,

He devoted himself to their care.

With attention to the lilies first,

He loosened the soil to remove undesired vegetation;

Greater care might have been taken for

The white ones were lost to impatience.

Fertilization of the bed followed–

With the day lilies responding best,

Increasing their blooms five-fold.roses


Attention was next turned to the roses

And the process repeated;

Again the white flowers were sacrificed!

One would think he’d have learned from experience…


The Keeper of the Wood returned daily

To tend to his blossoming claim;

Roses, red and pink, flourished under his care,

Yet the yellow ones caught his fancy,

As did the orange and yellow lilies.                                                                             orange lily

He smiled to see their transformation,

Pleased that his efforts had paid off…

Summer days found him reclining bedside,

Plucking here and poking there, enjoying their fragrance–

What a happy time for him!


Soon the trees offered a colorful competition–

Bedecked in scarlet, accessorized in gold,

They lent a regal air o’er the garden.

Pruning time came and the Keeper of the Wood smiled

While trimming delicate branches and bulbs…

Often, without thinking, he cut so deeply that many perished;

The rest were lost to the cold.

Only Spring would bring notice

When he’d wonder where they’d gone,

Not recognizing the role he’d played.


“Insurance Assurance”

Published October 16, 2011 by Susan Woodward

Invisible does not equal non-existent…

Blood tests will not reveal its presence,

But it’s there all the same,

As debilitating as its physical counterpart…

Mental illness….shhh


Shhhame on those who look the other way,

Shhhaking their heads and

Shhhrugging an indifferent shoulder!

Shhhame on insurance companies who

Shhhould be looking out for our best interests!

But they say…

“You’re not sick”

“Get a hold of yourself”

“Snap out of it”…

We have a right to wellness,

But only if we can afford it, eh?

The rich carry Blue Cross…

The poor carry blue hearts…

Too bad the mind is not as visible as the brain;

Maybe then there’d be compassion.

%d bloggers like this: