Here.
I wrote this poem this morning, when the family was sleeping beneath comforters in various rooms, and the robins began swooping from barren…
I wrote this poem this morning, when the family was sleeping beneath comforters in various rooms, and the robins began swooping from barren branch to barren branch. Its title is today’s date, though its theme is the name of this post.
Here. Moving past an adverb, this word is a state of presence that tugs at me to stay within the moment. In a time where anxiety can run rampant, this word reminds me to put it into perspective, and take what’s in front of me. What’s here, and find the light in it.
• • •
April 6, 2019
Today, the Colorado mountains
surround me, lungs treated
with rich oxygen, rejuvenated
from the pines, untouched
by man’s machine.
Tomorrow, I’ll be back home,
where my residence’s finale
in this town has only begun.
Then, I’ll be flying clear
to the other coastline,
soaking in D.C.’s museums
and art, and eat guac from a
once-familiar Mexican restaurant,
I first visited a year back.
From there, I’ll become lost
in thought, 30,000 feet
above the ground; traveling
from Nashville to Atlanta,
allowing an hour to breathe.
And while Colorado is not
my home, I’ll return here
in less than 30 days,
leaning against a white wall
looking out the window
into the thick of pines;
limited cell service,
endless writing.
But for today,
I’m in the Colorado air,
bird’s call almost tangible,
their echo lingering throughout
the valley; I wish my
father well, as he buttons up
his coat and shifts his lunchbox
to the other hand,
admiring the sky.
And I’ll watch the deer graze upon
the land–my mother’s almost
emerging flower plants.
And now I admire the sky,
and how it meets the cities,
on all parts of the earth.
Samantha
This poem, Samantha, is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry. This poem, Samantha…
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry.
Samantha
by Regan Smith
She is
the morning air
holding a purity
the crisp beauty.
She is so deeply loved,
one that overflows
so heavily
it sinks the others
that surround her.
She never runs empty.
She holds a
hummingbird heart:
always bringing hope
always bringing grace,
always beating.
Annabelle
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry. This poem is titled, Annabelle…
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry.
Annabelle
By Regan Smith
Bright red lips,
beneath the summer sky;
her children–
two sweet girls,
hair tied in otter buns,
explore the earth,
their friendship,
their sisterhood.
The boy with round cheeks,
bounces on her hip;
how can a newborn child
be filled with such joy?
She sits on the grass,
and pulls her baby boy closer.
the sun beams on
the nape of her neck
as she listens to the words
spoken within.
Her gentle voice
she uses to call to her children,
her partner,
is a voice full of power.
When she herself was created
in the womb of her mother,
gifts were woven into her very fibers:
her strength found in softness,
passion for justice,
and love love love for the
hurting hearts around her.
She is a child of the most high–
the daughter of Compassion,
Tenderness, and above all
Love.
Celeste
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry. This poem, Celeste…
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry.
Celeste
by Regan Smith
She’s sitting in the sky,
overlooking the ocean.
I’ve never heard such whispers
roar the ocean waves,
her ear is tuned toward its song.
Her heart is pure gold,
as if there were glass in it;
though it is worth far more.
It weighs heavy for others, this healer;
holding a heart of humility.
Her settled assurance,
shift the tides in other’s lives,
pulls them closer to our Creator,
the ultimate Love.
Rachel
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry. This poem is titled, Rachel…
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry.
Rachel
By Regan Smith
She will be known for her beauty,
her tenderness;
a floodlight is bursting within,
illuminating even the darkest corners;
for where others won’t go,
she will.
Oh how the city can be cold,
but is softened by the wave of
compassion and encouragement.
Peach and pinks now light up
the night, for not even the stars
could create this alchemy.
But she won’t dwell on her
internal strength,
rather is drawn into the
eternal promises.
Raine
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry. Raine…
This poem is a part of the Sister Series, a series of celebrating individual women and sharing their beauty through poetry.
Raine
by Regan Smith
I was stepping on stones
across a river, when I found you.
Within the cattails along the bank,
you pulled their cotton seeds and watched
how the wind would carry them.
It was as though you were
soaking in neoteric nostalgia,
longing for this present tense
to linger a bit longer.
The weeping willows swayed praise
and the cotton seeds danced
softly within the air,
catching the light just right.
It was a gift for you,
and I saw the bliss behind your eyes.
Not even the river could match
your heart within
that moment.