Gayle Slaten
—Poetry and Photos by Gayle Lindsay Slaten, Tucson, AZ
DECADES
Out of sync with life
Her first decade was spent
As a 20-year-old
Caring for siblings
Mothering the brood
Making rules for others to uphold
Her second decade was spent
Her second decade was spent
As a 40-year-old
Dear Abbey
Counseling her young peers
Peacemaker and
Overseer of others’ love lives
Her third decade was spent
Her third decade was spent
As a 50-year-old
Settling into her duties
Gathering objects of others’ desires
Balabusta and chef
A welcoming hostess
Her fourth decade was spent
Her fourth decade was spent
As a teenager
Breaking out of old confines
Trying out new lovers
Self-absorbed
Shirking responsibilities
Her fifth decade was spent
Her fifth decade was spent
As an 80-year-old
Settled and safe
In the prison of life
Made small
Waiting for death
And now
And now
In her sixth decade
Perhaps she can make up for lost time
Pursuing her fanciful dreams of childhood
Banging pots to create rhythms
Crayoning her life back to color
THE LAST TIME
When she woke up in the morning
She didn’t know that it would be the last time
She would be on that island of craziness
The last time she would ring the bell
And have deer line up on her driveway
For a handful of molasses-laced grain
The raccoons darting through their legs
To catch tidbits that dropped
She didn’t know it would be the last time
She didn’t know it would be the last time
She would sip coffee on the porch
Gazing at the water that surrounded
What was once a small piece of paradise
With rocky beaches which hid
Tiny spiral shells and blue crabs
Geoduck clams and starfish that washed ashore
She didn’t know it would be the last time
She didn’t know it would be the last time
She would see her beautiful greyhounds alive
Couldn’t imagine her husband taking the lives
Of the dogs he loved more than her
But, after she left, the craziness engulfed him
Making her return impossible...
Not that she would have come back
After experiencing the real world out there
She didn’t know it would be the first time
She didn’t know it would be the first time
She could relax and be herself, to find herself
The first time that others would be kind to her
And listen to her point of view
She had no idea about the wonders that lay ahead
She only knew that now was her time
To explore her inner and outer worlds
To dive into freedom that this life offers every one of us
If we just make that momentary choice to
Listen to that inner voice and stay our own path
SHOREBIRD
I used to be a shorebird
I used to be a shorebird
Mesmerized by ebb and flow
Saltwater tides
Synching to my heartbeat
Slowly breathing in peace
I used to be a shorebird
I used to be a shorebird
Sandy toes sinking
Into warm beach
Gazing at western sunset
Breathing in nature’s energy
I used to be a shorebird
I used to be a shorebird
Finding tiny treasures
Amongst ropes of
Washed-ashore seaweed
Breath-catching beauty
I used to be a shorebird
I used to be a shorebird
Finding my place
In the world
When I felt all alone
Deep breath of life connection
Now I take flight
Now I take flight
For the starkness
Of desert sunsets
Tall saguaro against the sky
Zen-like breath of coming home
...to myself...
MY FIRST HOME
I was 63 years old
The first time I slept by myself
In my first home all my own
Giddy with anticipation
A new life opened to me
From parents’ house
Giddy with anticipation
A new life opened to me
From parents’ house
To marriage house
Others’ wants colored my life
Beige were the walls
Gray was my heart
I gathered the few things
I gathered the few things
I brought to my space
Set them all out
Discovered a theme
My preference became clear
I painted my walls
I painted my walls
Turquoise and orange
Hand-me-down furniture
Became works of art
Tabletop and front door, purple
Multi-colored rugs
Multi-colored rugs
Silk, striped rainbow throw
On my 40-year-old flowered couch
Metal shaman and giant orange flower
Overlooking my drums and flutes
I wake up happy every morning
I wake up happy every morning
Vibrant colors enfolding me
Protecting me
Vibrating into creative energy
I am home at last
_____________________
CHAOS UNBROKEN
When in chaos
Be the eye of the storm
When overwhelmed
Breathe into your heart
Remember the unbroken chain of love
That surrounds you, enfolds you, protects you
When all is lost
Have tea and cookies
Gaze at sunsets
Beat a drum to your heart rhythm
Remember you can never be broken
You are whole
Find your inner light
And turn it up until you remember
You are a radiant being
You are perfectly imperfect
And the lessons are in that imperfection
Honor the chaos as your teacher
Sit with the overwhelm
Let go of what you think you lost
Make space for the next adventure
And embrace this life with joy
GRIEF, REVISITED
Grief is a funny bedfellow
Sneaking up when all is well
Long-lost memories reappear
As if happening again, now
Feeling that all is lost
Even while enjoying the good life
Turning the moment of bliss
Into a catch in my throat
Sharp jabs of unwelcome sensations
Dealt with and put away
But not released
Lest I forget
The lessons learned
From those dreadful times
Burned into physical maps
In my body
Holding pockets of grief
In my muscles, organs
And softly on my skin
To be reactivated
By the knowing touch
Of a competent masseuse
Holding tears and shame
Fear and indignance
Of victim-felt times,
Not in control of my life
Unable to think my way out
Giving-up times
When no other choices
Were apparent
The massage of today
Is meant to be peaceful
Relaxing
Releasing of tension
A tear trails down my face
Until I taste the saltiness
On my tongue
Bringing me back
To this time, this body
With gold nuggets of
My Truths
Which will find their way
Onto the page
Capturing my story
Releasing those knots
To be kept on paper
Burden lifted
I come back to today
Refreshed and ready
To write
Gayle Slaten
FINALLY
I’m finally comfortable in my own skin
I think that’s because it is so loose now
I have room to move around in there
And, when I stretch, it has a lot of give
Why didn’t I think of getting a skin-size bigger, before?
Always worried what I looked like
Hiding the bulges beneath large tops
Wearing lots of black
Now, I’m comfortable in my skin
I look in the mirror and am pleased with the crepes
I always liked that texture before
But didn’t know it would go so well with my soul
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
The most important thing I can tell you about aging is this: If you really feel that you want to have an off-the-shoulder blouse and some big beads and thong sandals and a dirndl skirt and a magnolia in your hair, do it. Even if you're wrinkled.
—Maya Angelou
_____________________
Good morning and welcome to a new SnakePal, Gayle Slaten! Gayle Lindsay Slaten was the Poetry Editor for the online magazine, downtownLAlife.com, for three years until it ceased publication this spring. A former guest columnist for the monthly Key Peninsula News in Washington, she shares her writing to help others know that life can change in a moment, just by taking that one step. Gayle is a retired Marriage and Family Therapist and has a teaching credential in Special Education. She lives in Tucson, Arizona with her partner, where she enjoys drum circles, art, cooking, and writing. Her latest book, Self Portraits of a Runaway Wife: a healing journey told through poetry and prose, is available at smile.amazon.com/dp/B08C95PGJT/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_i_dLEdFb405V4WG/. Gayle says, “This book is about my journey back to Self, about waking up to life, and staying present long enough to experience the world in a new way.”
Cover Art
Welcome to the Kitchen, Gayle, and don’t be a stranger!
In our area, Poetry Night in Davis presents Trina Drotar, Emily Wallis Hughes, and Jihyun Yun tonight on Zoom at 8pm at ucdavisdss.zoom.us/my/andyojones/. Info: www.facebook.com/events/2003215946481372/.
__________________________
—Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
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