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A Butterfly

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Poetry: Feb. 2007

Throughout gardens and wooded areas

Life begins a bit fuzzy and slow

No rush to go anywhere

Taking life one inch at a time

Fattening up for transformation

When the time is right

Hanging in a silken cocoon

Before long it’s time to materialize

Slowly but surely emerging

With tiny wings at first

Again a transformation

Until the wings are strong

Wings of beauty and strength

Flying high and low

Against the backdrop of life

Admiring all as is admired

Some of greens and blues

Others of reds and salmon

Colors beyond a rainbows eye

Viewing life with grace and splendor

Beauty from within

Reflecting the sunshine

Flaunting its radiance and

Touching petals, tasting life

My Name is Fay

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Whimsical: Feb. 2006

My name is Fay and I am 8 years old

When I was little I thought I was just like any other girl

As I grow I find out more and more that I am not

Sometimes I get confused about what I can and cannot do

We live in the forest down by the willows

I have a little brother and a little sister too

My grandma lives just down near the stream

Even my school and friends live real close

One day at school we heard a strange bell

It was so loud it echoed through the trees

Our teacher told us to hush and be still

She told us we’d learn of the bell another time

My mother once told me, I would be a teacher too

She said I had talents I would share with everyone

It was then I learned that everyone has special talents

We all teach each other everyday, all of our life

Right before we got to go on our first field trip

We were all so excited to find out where we’d go

We begged to know but our teacher would not tell us

She said there were things we’d have to learn first

First we learned about our names

I found out that my name is not just Fay

My name is really Fairy Angel Yaw, Fay for short

I thought that was great but then we learned even more

We were handed our very own wands

With sachets of magic fairy dust

Everything we learned in school

We could use on our very first field trip

We also learned what the strange bell was

When sitting at our desks inside the school tree

If humans are spotted, teachers ring the bell

Not to startle or get hurt we hush and be still

Always fun, loving and carefree

We wee-Fae are very small and have to know

Like human kids can’t play near cars

Us wee-Fae mustn’t play near the humans’ feet

I loved dusting of the forest critters on our field trip

I tumbled and twirled to make my fairy dust dance

I then knew I was not like other girls

I am special, just like each of them, just like you

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The Darkened Night Sky Fell Fast Upon Me

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Poetry: Jan. 2006

The Darkened Night Sky Fell Fast Upon Me

The darkened night sky fell fast upon me

Like a blanket thrown over the day

This one was good, unlike most others

I don’t remember the last and did not want it to end

I sat in quiet solitude, one with nature

No interruption by anything or anyone

My senses all came to life as I entered this realm

Overwhelming at first, I’d forgotten of them

One with it all, I lay in the lush meadow

As if in another world, nothing else existed

The sounds were a harmonic melody

Like nothing me ears had ever heard

The smells swirled throughout my head

A fragrant bouquet dancing in the air

The feel of the sun keeping me warm

The tickles of all, carried by a light breeze

The snow-capped mountains in the distance

All around me, my eyes have never seen such beauty

Through all of my senses, throughout my being

I taste the grandeur of this space I am in

I don’t want it to end, not today, not so soon

Oh when will I experience it again, will I ever?

Like a blanket thrown over my perfect day

The darkened night sky fell fast upon me

Holiday Decorating

Dec. 2005

I always had all my Christmas decorating done before I’d go to bed the day after Thanksgiving.

I had 18 boxes of decorations of many, many years.

Although the house was filled and not a corner un-done

I never once used every one.

The warmth and glow that would stir so much within,

Always brought tears of love and joy right back again.

Last year was the first that decorating was different,

I didn’t have it in me to carry out my intent.

It was also the first Thanksgiving,

I’d spent without my boys.

I put up my tree along with the trimming

Something was missing, I was lacking the joys.

I was glad when it was over, putting it behind me.

Now this year would be different, I knew it just must be.

My boys came over the day after Thanksgiving,

And were shocked to see no tree.

In a new house now with a room just for fitting,

The tree had a perfect spot for everyone to see.

Days later I gathered all the decorations,

And stacked the boxes in the living room.

There they awaited my admirations,

Yet I felt like a flower not ready to bloom.

I wanted it back, the energy and zest,

My Claus like feeling of lively and quick.

Each day I’d get up and hope for the best,

Wondering just what would do the trick.

Today I woke up and knew I’d begin,

Not having a clue how much I’d get done.

I started to feel it and opened a bin,

Before long I was singing carols one by one.

I hung a few things my boys had made,

Long ago when they were just small.

Tears flow and those memories never fade,

If not for them, I’d have few warm fuzzies at all.

It seemed just as every box had been opened,

I was setting up and sitting under the tree,

Ignoring upon what my decorating would depend.

In an instant it magnified and took my energy.

I remained with the tree limbs surrounding me,

And gracefully surrendered to the powers that be.

I was actually comfortable there on the floor,

In my hands I cradled my head and leaned on my knee.

I don’t remember this exact feeling before.

I had immense pain and yet felt at ease.

I sat on the couch,

With eyes closed and breathing deep.

Relaxing in a slouch,

And smile knowing it’s waiting in a heap.

The Christmas Box

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Contest: "Holiday Memories Theme"

Dec. 2005

I remember the look

When he opened the box,

His whole body shook

You’d think he got socks.

All season long

I said it was paper,

He believed I was wrong

And called it a caper.

He dug through the carton

Flinging paper by the pound,

Beginning to feel like an automation

Digging for something that couldn’t be found.

Way down at the bottom

Was a tiny, little package

Knowing now it wasn’t a phantom

Inside was just a note with an image

I remember the look

When he opened the box

“A treasure hunt”?

Now, he wished he got socks.

Sisters

Sisters come to us in different mediums

A voice from many miles away

A hug or a nudge or 'the look'

An e-mail from a distant place

A look of encouragement

A 'knowing' of the bond

A card or letter in the mailbox

A presence from beyond

I have so many sisters . . .

One I grew up with ...

She is older than I

She is several States away

We don't speak on a regular basis

I can feel her understanding without a word spoken

The more I understand me the more I know her

I know that she is a mere 11 digits away

We are bonded in more ways than I can comprehend

She is my sister

One is described perfectly by Maya Angelou

She is my Sisterfriend

She may be my secret twin

Uniquely individual yet identical

She is several States away

I can feel her understanding without a word spoken

I feel her presence at the thought of her

I know that she is a mere 11 digits away

We are bonded in more ways than I can comprehend

She is my Sisterfriend

I have so many more

I cannot count them all

Some I have not met yet

Some I may never meet at all

As Women of Strength and Inner Beauty

We are sister

Changes

Aug. 2006

The color of my hair

my skin or my teeth

do not change

the color of my blood

The shape of my face

my butt or my knees

do not change

the shape of my soul

The size of my lips

my breasts or my legs

do not change

the size of my heart

I have changed

From birth to now

I will change again

Some things never change

The amount my brain

my stomach or my hands

retain has changed

they will change again

The number of my tears

my pounds or my hairs

that fall will change

they will change again

The words in my writings

my songs or my speech

have changed

they will change again

Some things never change

Some things continue to change

Each moment is different

I will change again

Summer Days

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Whimsical: May. 2006

I get up early, I eat real quick

I jump into some clothes

I’m off to play

I just love the summer days

I play house in the lawn

I twirl and get dizzy

It’s time for lunch

I just love the summer days

I play in the sprinkler

I jump rope and play hopscotch

It’s the Ice Cream man coming (listen)

I just love the summer days

I eat dinner and get ready for bed

I dress up the dog (he’s such a good sport)

I’ll get up in the morning and do it again

I just love the summer days

Awareness

June. 2006

As simple as watching a leaf falling from a tree.

As my health has been lacking what it used to be

I am becoming increasingly aware of what it is telling me.

I woke from my sleep to take a bathroom break,

I saw unusual lines and my head shook a bit.

I knew exactly what was happening.

When it was over the calm was profound.

It felt like I was in another realm for

several hours after that.

Ahhh such awareness of myself.

I was totally aware of another tia.

Untitled

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Whimsical: June. 2006

Out for a walk

In the dark, silence

Of the night

I see my breath

Gazing into the

Darkness

To see anything

But nothing

Taking in the stillness

All I hear

My own footsteps

Knowing there is more

Stopping

My senses tell me

It is near

I close my eyes to listen

An exhale in the darkness

My eyes open

to see hers

Penetrating my soul

Am I what she

Is seeking

Or will she let me

Pass by

I continue walking

Slow deep breaths

Release my fears

I am calm

I return home

Unsure as to why

The Midnight Winter Wolf

Let me be

Leaving as I Entered

Seeded Spirit © Sarah Christianson

Non Fiction: Oct. 2006

As I entered this world

Disoriented – into the unknown

Who and I, who are you?

My Senses unable to hone

I played, laughed and feared

Learning what to show and to hide

Some treasured memories

Others blocked, held deep inside

Small, mousy and withdrawn

School was hard, way to tough

Then a rebel, fighting back

Would I ever be enough

Found love, what do I do

Then children, I felt the glow

Fear of loosing such deep love

I smothered them and then let go

Next a love with hurt and fear

Aching for my kids so far away

Unable to stand the distance

Now by their side I will stay

Spirituality and Alzheimer’s now embedded

My senses unable to hone

Leaving as I entered

Disoriented – into the unknown

Where we Still Laugh and Wish

Poetry: Feb. 2006

I know a place where we can go

I visit there as often as I can

It brings back memories of long ago

Way way back where we began

This place is so very special to me

I imagine us being goofy, being silly

Full of life, fun, playful and carefree

Feeling free to float as if a water lily

This place is inside my head

Built on love, honesty and trust

A place of peace and no dread

All this in there, it is a must

It’s like a dream yet I know it’s not

There I no longer feel upset and sad

I’m the me that’s been lost, or so I thought

I like it there where I’m not hurt or mad

I wish you could visit this place

And yet I am glad you cannot

This is my escape, my space

The place I blossom instead of rot

If you only knew it was inside you too

You’d see no need to punish

No need for me and no need for you

This is where we still laugh and wish

A Book and It’s cover

– A book of Me’s

NonFiction: Nov. 2006

This book of me’s is one that not many get to see.

Beneath the layers of skin, that covers my being

are gazillions of cells in and around the organs

that keep me moving from day to day

Look closer and you will see

cells of hurt, fear, remorse and regret

held down way below the surface by

cells of pride, smiles, laughter and make-up

Beyond the cells and organs lie a skeleton

taken apart there may be two or three

Left when all else is gone is the source

The soul is what will always be, for eternity

This book and it’s cover tells what lies beneath

the layers that you and others cannot see

the very next book of me’s will be of the soul

as that is really what is the heart of me

I Give You My Love(to my boys)

Challenge: Nov. 2006

I love you

What I give to you this day

And every day

Is my love

You have had it always

When you did not think so and

Even when you do not think so

My love for you grows stronger

Each and every day

So much sometimes it hurts me

My love is yours

To have with you each and every moment

From now and throughout eternity

Listen and you will hear it

Close your eyes and you will see it

Take a slow deep breath and you will feel it

I love you

More than you’re capable of ever knowing

I love you

Literary Garden Fiction Contest

"Second Place Winner"

Fiction: Nov. 2006

"The Miracle of Christmas"

She was sad as the holidays were approaching, alone, away from family and with no money for gifts or a tree. Her heart was in despair.

She walked around the neighborhood taking in the glimmer of the lights on each house. Appreciating those who had their curtains drawn, allowing her to gaze upon their Christmas tree.

She came to a home with a large, well lit cross. She could not move, as though she stepped into cement. The cross would bear the name of a child, beneath the words In Memory Of. Tears fell from her eyes, her heart heavy and saddened by their pain.

Her head tipped downward as she wiped her tears. Her eyes closed, she took in a deep breath then opened her eyes as she raised her head. A light on the Christmas tree inside the house caught her eye.

This one light was brighter than all the others and had a twinkle unlike any thing she had ever seen. Subtly she could feel a glow throughout her being. As this glow radiated and warmed her soul a sense of peace and gratitude came over her.

Walking home, she held her head higher, was lighter on her feet and had a glow in her heart. Once at home she quickly searched for pens, paper, tape and glue.

For the rest of the evening and in the days following she made folded note cards for everyone she knew. She let each of them know how grateful she was to be able to tell them how blessed she was to hold the beautiful thoughts and memories of them in her heart, not only at Christmas time but every day.

Reindeer

Dec. 2006

Reindeer are not quite

what they seem

they work quite hard

to fulfill their dream

Reindeer are much like

the Thunderbirds

way up in the air

not on the ground like other herds

Reindeer must be synchronized

as they go up high then down real low

without gifts falling out of the sleigh

for if they did Santa would not be a jolly old fellow

Reindeer strive to team with Santa

so when they are on the team

photographers are ready

to snap that gleam

My Sleeping Muse

Jan. 2007

Pen in hand or fingers to the keys ...

my muse is not very appreciative

of the nudges I've been giving her

She's ignoring me terribly

I write or type a thought or two

hoping she'll come around

but she continues to slumber

without the slightest movement

My muse must think she's a bear

still deep in her state of hibernation

little does she know I will do

what I can to wake her

WOSIB Get Well

CC - Get Well: Jan. 2007

A bird flew by my window today

It had a message to tell me

Once I heard I flew into action

I had to tell the others of the news

The bird came as fast as it could

To let me know that you’re not feeling well

We will flock together just for you

Thoughts and prayers and hugs

The bird continues to fly from place to place

As we ask it to share the news

You, our sister we hold close to our heart

Until you yourself tell us you’re well