for all of this i honor you. a poem by jeanette leblanc

for all of this i honor you. {a new years poem}

For you, and for the lifetimes you’ve lived in one short year: For the endings, and the beginnings and all the spaces in between. For last year’s words and this years voice and for everything that must remain unsaid. For boldly speaking your truth and for all that you still …

You are still here. An poem to remind you: by Jeanette LeBlanc

you are still here: a poem to remind you

{Because there are times that the very force of your reality – the relentless pace, the depths of what has been won and lost and seen and done and of all that relies on you, the pressing weight that you feel when you first wake up in the morning and the inescapable pressure …

the thing that you do.

“I wish I knew that I’m doing the right thing….” There is no right thing, you know. And no wrong thing, either. There is just the thing that you do. And so you do it. You close your eyes and leap and you try to do it the best you …

magic balm

There is no clock in my room at the summer house, not even an electrical outlet. It’s one of those undetermined witching hours between midnight and dawn.  I am drowsy but not asleep, struggling with the wicked combination of jet lag and a brain that has the propensity to buzz …

dusts floats on rays of light

Dust floats on rays of light dancing just above my head. Sheets are rumpled from sleep; covers long ago lost to the floor.  Long morning shadows slice across her back and my face; alternating diagonals of light and dark with no regard for boundaries. Shadows do not see the end …

willing to break by Jeanette leblanc

willing to break

We sit on the bed; crossed legs and open hearts. It has been a long night and an even longer morning.  I curl myself around you as you weep.  Shoulders heave and cleansing tears fall.  A truth too long held is released. Confession.  Omission.  Anxiety.  Fear.  Agony.  Comfort.  Compassion. Love.  …

a particular kind of worship

Chaturanga dandasana.  Uttanasana.  Tadasana.  Savasana. My body has developed muscle memories and attached them to the rise and flow of these Sanskrit words.  I bend and straighten, lift and lengthen in response.  I don’t often look to the screen anymore – just the sound of the words and the rhythm …

Moving Me 2.0

Kate Inglis My fellow Maritime girl.  She writes books (real ones).  She takes  pictures (fantastic ones).  She takes care of rude pink-shirt-wearing guys in bar lines (you had to be there).  For sheer talent with words, Kate brings me to my knees every single time. Plus – she’s the only …