underneath my skin
just beneath the surface
an unreachable itch
vacillating, floating
trying to push through
to reveal, to disclose
to expose, to liberate
the tiny morsels
suppressed by authority
screaming for release
so as to not be buried
where 1000 splinters
morph into boards
solidified plywood
encasing my heart
as it silently pulses
september 10, 2010
judithpiper
***
Verbal abuse plus the silent treatment.
A soul murdering combination.
But only if I allow it.
***
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Progeny
Inspired by Ron and Diane ~ originators of 10,000 Miles 10,000 Dreams.
~*~*~
Sweaty. Sticky.
Salty beads roll down my torso
Trekking poles aid my sinews
Sinews aged, one-half century
Ascent. Rocks.
I peer ahead
Daughter of my youth has stopped
Stopped to converse with two passers-by
Trudge. Halt.
I stand beside my offspring
Introduced to the travelers
Travelers of 10,000 miles, gathering 10,000 dreams
Unload. Chat.
The four of us
Loosen straps, unclick clips
Clips that hold the packs, packs upon our backs
Serendipity. Resonance.
Sharing details of our lives
Each keenly aware of significance
Significance of this wilderness crossing
Dreams. Boldness.
"What is your life's dream?"
"If you were 10 times bolder,
how would you change the world?"
Corridors. Doubt.
My mind freezes
Searching its corridors, unsure
Unsure of my life's dream
Video. Sound.
Of the 10,000, I am 241
Daughter is number 242
Number 242 recorded on the digital screen
Humbleness. Pride.
I listen as Number 242 responds
And it dawns upon me
It dawns upon me that I behold
Before my eyes and with my ears
My life's dream fulfilled
One of my own 10,000 dreams
One of my own 10,000 tears
10,000 tears of gratitude
august 19, 2010
carolwelch/judithpiper
~*~*~
My 22-year old daughter and I took a couple-night backpacking trip in August 2010 along the Appalachian Trail in New York.
Our route began around 7:00 pm from just south of Perkins Tower which is located on the top of Bear Mountain. We pitched tent after about a mile on an open area with some rocks overlooking an awesome view of low mountains in the distance and a Hudson River tributary, the light diffusion from NYC visible all through the dark hours.
The next day we proceeded North, trekking through Bear Mountain Trailside Museum, which is a zoo featuring local animals. Yes, the AT goes right through the zoo, white blazes and all.
Upon exiting the zoo, the AT then leads the hiker across the Hudson River on the sidewalk of the Bear Mountain Bridge, traffic whirring by under the bridge cables and towers. Eventually, the AT exits 'civilization' and re-enters the woods. I think that wooded area is known as the Hudson Highlands.
By the end of the day, we had hiked some eight to nine miles and pitched tent at the soccer field of the Graymoor Monastery. An awesome place which provides a cold shower and running water. Two luxuries for a backpacker. We camped that night with another backpacker, a section hiker who is a New Jersey State Trooper. I joked to my daughter that we were well protected - a state trooper on one side and a statue of Jesus on the other. Ha!
The next day, we headed back to Perkins Tower. It was due to an incident on the return trek that the poem originated.
Along the trail we met two beautiful people, as most AT backpackers are. I do really mean that; I love backpackers and hikers.
These awesome folks are Ron and Diane. They are hiking 2100 miles and then biking 7900 miles. Along the way they are collecting 10,000 dreams, one for each mile, via video recording which they then blog.
This collection will be combined into an art project to inspire people, folks of everyday life, to have hope and to reach for their dreams. What an awesome project!! Here is their website, Journey of Dreams.
When Diane asked me the question, "What is your life's dream?" my mind became paralyzed. Paralyzed because of a recent personal relationship conflict that had affected me at my core self and had left me in much internal distress and self-doubt. Just that morning I had journaled asking myself, "What do I do now? What is my focus?"
Anyhoo, I came up with one of my dreams to share for their project. They recorded my dream. I am the 241st dreamer and my daughter is Number 242.
I stumbled with my answer as the camcorder looked at me.
Then it was my daughter's turn.
And as she spoke, I realized....
~*~*~
Sweaty. Sticky.
Salty beads roll down my torso
Trekking poles aid my sinews
Sinews aged, one-half century
Ascent. Rocks.
I peer ahead
Daughter of my youth has stopped
Stopped to converse with two passers-by
Trudge. Halt.
I stand beside my offspring
Introduced to the travelers
Travelers of 10,000 miles, gathering 10,000 dreams
Unload. Chat.
The four of us
Loosen straps, unclick clips
Clips that hold the packs, packs upon our backs
Serendipity. Resonance.
Sharing details of our lives
Each keenly aware of significance
Significance of this wilderness crossing
Dreams. Boldness.
"What is your life's dream?"
"If you were 10 times bolder,
how would you change the world?"
Corridors. Doubt.
My mind freezes
Searching its corridors, unsure
Unsure of my life's dream
Video. Sound.
Of the 10,000, I am 241
Daughter is number 242
Number 242 recorded on the digital screen
Humbleness. Pride.
I listen as Number 242 responds
And it dawns upon me
It dawns upon me that I behold
Before my eyes and with my ears
My life's dream fulfilled
One of my own 10,000 dreams
One of my own 10,000 tears
10,000 tears of gratitude
august 19, 2010
carolwelch/judithpiper
~*~*~
My 22-year old daughter and I took a couple-night backpacking trip in August 2010 along the Appalachian Trail in New York.
Our route began around 7:00 pm from just south of Perkins Tower which is located on the top of Bear Mountain. We pitched tent after about a mile on an open area with some rocks overlooking an awesome view of low mountains in the distance and a Hudson River tributary, the light diffusion from NYC visible all through the dark hours.
The next day we proceeded North, trekking through Bear Mountain Trailside Museum, which is a zoo featuring local animals. Yes, the AT goes right through the zoo, white blazes and all.
Upon exiting the zoo, the AT then leads the hiker across the Hudson River on the sidewalk of the Bear Mountain Bridge, traffic whirring by under the bridge cables and towers. Eventually, the AT exits 'civilization' and re-enters the woods. I think that wooded area is known as the Hudson Highlands.
By the end of the day, we had hiked some eight to nine miles and pitched tent at the soccer field of the Graymoor Monastery. An awesome place which provides a cold shower and running water. Two luxuries for a backpacker. We camped that night with another backpacker, a section hiker who is a New Jersey State Trooper. I joked to my daughter that we were well protected - a state trooper on one side and a statue of Jesus on the other. Ha!
The next day, we headed back to Perkins Tower. It was due to an incident on the return trek that the poem originated.
Along the trail we met two beautiful people, as most AT backpackers are. I do really mean that; I love backpackers and hikers.
These awesome folks are Ron and Diane. They are hiking 2100 miles and then biking 7900 miles. Along the way they are collecting 10,000 dreams, one for each mile, via video recording which they then blog.
This collection will be combined into an art project to inspire people, folks of everyday life, to have hope and to reach for their dreams. What an awesome project!! Here is their website, Journey of Dreams.
When Diane asked me the question, "What is your life's dream?" my mind became paralyzed. Paralyzed because of a recent personal relationship conflict that had affected me at my core self and had left me in much internal distress and self-doubt. Just that morning I had journaled asking myself, "What do I do now? What is my focus?"
Anyhoo, I came up with one of my dreams to share for their project. They recorded my dream. I am the 241st dreamer and my daughter is Number 242.
I stumbled with my answer as the camcorder looked at me.
Then it was my daughter's turn.
And as she spoke, I realized....
that my children are my greatest dream fulfilled. They are awesome people, in spite of my (and my wonderful husband's) parenting blunders. I treasure the decades we have been blessed to grow together. And now, my young adult children are my friends, at least as much as one can be *friends* with their kids.
What greater fulfillment could I ask?
Brings to mind a song from my Way days: "Sometimes I forget that I've been given, my life's dream..."
[An added funny. Ron and Diane live in Asheville, just a few hours from me. Ha. Life and serendipity.]
~Thanks to Ron and Diane for the inspiration~
****
Sarah appears at minute 5:26 on Ron and Diane's Journey of Dreams Webisode 6: NJ/NY.....
What greater fulfillment could I ask?
Brings to mind a song from my Way days: "Sometimes I forget that I've been given, my life's dream..."
[An added funny. Ron and Diane live in Asheville, just a few hours from me. Ha. Life and serendipity.]
~Thanks to Ron and Diane for the inspiration~
****
Sarah appears at minute 5:26 on Ron and Diane's Journey of Dreams Webisode 6: NJ/NY.....
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Lessons from Darkness
Winter
cold, windy, dark
Faint reflections of obscure light
struggle to reach the floor
through the forest trees.
Apparel
silk, wool, down
Each weathered traveler
layered with coverings
for protection from the elements.
Insulation
boots, gloves, hood
Each expiration my breath echoes
as I peer beyond my quilted cowl,
relieved by the sight of human forms.
Sheathed with weather proofing
hiding from the crystal-laden steel air,
our contours appear similar.
At least we have these openings
through which to look around,
assuring ourselves that we are not alone.
Survival
A clearing in the timbers.
To the east?
The same landscape.
To the west?
A denser, darker patch.
Some go east.
Others go west.
I need a change,
I choose west.
Besides, I've heard it's always darker
right before the dawn.
We enter the haunted thicket
frostbite in the air,
darkness swallows us.
Our bodies gather closer,
it feels safer that way.
Necessity
Huddling we trudge.
The temperature amongst us rises,
some remove their hoods.
It's nice to see a human face again,
to hear another voice in place
of my echoed breath.
The warmth gives rise to hope.
Survival with grace
We struggle through the thick darkness,
no longer obscure human figures.
Forced to travel more closely,
it is clear our forms are uniquely shaped.
Each contour has its place along our sunless path.
Necessity with grace
Landscape changes,
darkness slowly fades to light,
images become lucid.
Sunlight
limpid, warm, inviting
Sun shines clearly
streaming lightly to the floor
though the scattered trees.
Grace
Layer by layer
we discard our protective garments.
Our outlines now in full array,
beauty to our eyes
deep appreciation
each mortal significant, distinct.
Survival, necessity, grace
Life, significance, purpose
Darkness to light
Unveiled
may 3, 2007
judithpiper
***
Perhaps I'll add the context later.
I think I tire of adding contexts. Ha!
cold, windy, dark
Faint reflections of obscure light
struggle to reach the floor
through the forest trees.
Apparel
silk, wool, down
Each weathered traveler
layered with coverings
for protection from the elements.
Insulation
boots, gloves, hood
Each expiration my breath echoes
as I peer beyond my quilted cowl,
relieved by the sight of human forms.
Sheathed with weather proofing
hiding from the crystal-laden steel air,
our contours appear similar.
At least we have these openings
through which to look around,
assuring ourselves that we are not alone.
Survival
A clearing in the timbers.
To the east?
The same landscape.
To the west?
A denser, darker patch.
Some go east.
Others go west.
I need a change,
I choose west.
Besides, I've heard it's always darker
right before the dawn.
We enter the haunted thicket
frostbite in the air,
darkness swallows us.
Our bodies gather closer,
it feels safer that way.
Necessity
Huddling we trudge.
The temperature amongst us rises,
some remove their hoods.
It's nice to see a human face again,
to hear another voice in place
of my echoed breath.
The warmth gives rise to hope.
Survival with grace
We struggle through the thick darkness,
no longer obscure human figures.
Forced to travel more closely,
it is clear our forms are uniquely shaped.
Each contour has its place along our sunless path.
Necessity with grace
Landscape changes,
darkness slowly fades to light,
images become lucid.
Sunlight
limpid, warm, inviting
Sun shines clearly
streaming lightly to the floor
though the scattered trees.
Grace
Layer by layer
we discard our protective garments.
Our outlines now in full array,
beauty to our eyes
deep appreciation
each mortal significant, distinct.
Survival, necessity, grace
Life, significance, purpose
Darkness to light
Unveiled
may 3, 2007
judithpiper
***
Perhaps I'll add the context later.
I think I tire of adding contexts. Ha!
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