The Liminality Journal

A birthday poem:

Another trip

around the sun

One more ‘til

This decade’s done

I’ve trekked into

The wilderness

Found within me tenderness

Re-membering

The severed part

Earnest as f*ck in my heart

I wear my heart

Upon my sleeve

But I was told this is naive

Learned to power through

With a shield

Invincible, chill, concealed

So here I claim

Unbridled love

Wholehearted for

the years to come

Reply (2)

Chuck

" I was told this was naive "

Yup.

nice.

This is wonderfully evocative and full of life. Thank you Sarah!

A. Wilder Westgate

On a bright spring morning,

when the days are warm enough

for the heat to be off,

I wake to the lingering cool air of night,

and pull your tiny body closer.

I inhale your lingering scent of baby softness,

and plant kisses on your sleeping face.

I take in this lingering moment,

and I wait for the birds to sing you awake.

I latch onto this memory

the same way you latch onto my breast,

begging it to linger,

sustained by its sweetness.

Reply (3)

This is beautifully tender and real. Thank you for this wonderful gift!

A. Wilder Westgate

Thank you for holding space for it here!

Thanks for sharing this precious memory with us :)

A. Wilder Westgate

Thank you for witnessing it. This is such a welcoming space.

You’re welcome! And it is indeed. I’m savoring this time, and these new connections :)

Beautiful 😍

Thank you! ❤️

language gives me chills

the way it slips through silence

resonance alive

Yes!! Love this. Language slipping through the silence. Completely agree!

Jane Longley

1 Alone

Cold

Hurtful

Insensitive

Long

Lasting

2 Together

Cool

Helpful

Intimate

Loving

Longed for

Chuck

effortless. eyes closed.

maybe a head bob, a finger snap.

sparce well placed notes

and the spaces in between.

'50's miles.

billie.

a getz samba, a 'trane ballad.

a trombone.

a frame of mind.

no shit to give.

envious.

Karen Shervheim

Chill

When I was young

It meant to be cold.

Now, that I am almost old,

it means to be relaxed.

Words change.

So do people.

That’s chill.

Kaitlin, I love your poem and the reading. What a beautiful testimony to love and to a beloved. Thank you. Nice to wrestle with a word that has so many connotations. Here goes.

Chill

I am always tending to overheat,

be on fire, overtax my spirit,

passion blooming in the seeds of rage,

the burning brightness of dreams to come,

bright lights holding possibility across the miles and words.

Do this immediately, right here, right now;

We have waited long enough.

The first time someone told me to chill,

not sure what to feel, I chose offence.

Not sure what was meant,

but sensing it was not something to like.

One Sunday I heard Psalm 46 a little differently.

Not “be still and know that I am God”,

but “be chill and know.”

A chill not of cold or ice,

But of slowing down, silence, stillness

feeling your love like the gentlest of rains.

Opening, like the flowers in spring.

Fear melting away,

urgency dissolving into emptiness.

The heat of the chill finding it’s place

In the flames of all wisdom.

Reply (2)

Leslie Davis

...be chilly and know"... Amen

Loving your poem today as always :)

Your voice here speaks as one who is patient from experience, and I think it does the subject much justice. I love the way you play several times with heat and cold, out of all the connotations of chill you include :)

“The heat of the chill finding its place in the flames of all wisdom” especially! So good!

I bless you to continue exploring the wisdom in holy anger :)

Aleesha Neal

Wonder

If our skin

Ripples with chills

When something is so

Beautiful and true and unifying

That our heart cannot contain it

And our body is alive

To what could be

What should be

Possible

Now

I love this and the images you paint with your words.

Steven Barbery

Chill

immediately brought to mind

a line of song from the 80's

and then another

then I read the wonderful words

of more wonderful poets

on the same subject

and life happens as I

ponder my own words

in the subject

chill

and in my exhaustion

spiritual that exhausts physically

causing emotional numbness

that gives mental fog

so I chill

my words ramble

hopefully poetically

but no worries if they don't

one day this poem

may be edited

or perfected

because today

I chill

taking the words

of my fellow poetry travelers

to heart

I chill

Reply (2)

This is a wonderful, bold experience and experiment! I think you’ve gotten the essence down pat :) Thanks for the bravery and persistence here.

What a wonderful sentiment and a clever way to frame this prompt! Keep chillin'!

Liz

An unexpected cold chill,

Ripples through my body,

Reverberating into my soul.

I welcome it in summer,

Yet find it confusing in winter

Instead of letting it simply be

This is a truly beautiful capture of a subtle and profound moment. I love the real-time wisdom here. Thank you!

Liz

Thanks so much!!

I love this prompt today :)

Chill

Do you need more than that

Smile on your face

As you sit, content, watching the

Trees sway in the breeze,

World so green it makes you

Weep if you let your attention go?

In Hebrew, they say to be

Chill

Is to flow, like a river,

To be flowing - not

Weak but attentive, not

Passive but passionate.

It is a singular expression of vivid

Aliveness, so present with effortless

Surrender that you soak in the

Sum pleasures of the ride of life.

You are clear and strong because

You choose to see,

And so you shall receive.

Choose

Highest

Integrity

Living life

Luminously

I’m willing to bet you’ll

Take that smile with

A cup of orange tea, sit out

On your porch, and watch those

Trees sway until the sun sets.

I look forward to your contributions Jillian. I like the connection to Hebrew and really love these lines: " to be Chill is Is to flow, like a river,To be flowing - not Weak but attentive, not Passive but passionate. It is a singular expression of vivid Aliveness, so present with effortless

Surrender that you soak in the Sum pleasures of the ride of life."

Thank you!

Leslie Davis

The neighborhood is dead silent right now and with the fog settling in I feel a chill but it is the kind that can be warmed quickly.

My sweater is right here and I snuggle into it.

The week has been long and adventurous.

This blessed moment in a favorite chair, in a favorite cardigan, in my little home with my beloved near.

I must hold to this memory and use it when the world once again demands action and reaction

to quench the fires of rage and hatred.

The fog thickens and still the birds sing!

I love Sundays and Spring