Skip to main content

FLOWER by Brigid Clare Oak

I confess to an ongoing battle within myself…

Part of me feels safe confined in more traditional and socially accepted parameters of belief and being, and part of me feels utterly maddened by those same parameters. I seem to be engaged in a constant work of integration of my "inner nun" and my "inner gypsy".

There is a lovely Feminine Presence who seems always to softly swoop in and rescue me when I have gone too far into hiding and am in danger of losing the more colorful part of myself. She seems always to arrive in the spring: to tend the garden of my restless soul. Blessed is She. 
Photography by Catherine Ghosh

by Brigid Clare Oak

You call me into
this quiet space
where You alone
can teach me
You, of the Soft Hands
and the Tender Heart
You, of the Fierce Freedom
and Powerful Protection

You reach into
my woundedness
and draw me forth
from my own clutching keeping
Out of that tiny, hidden room
where the child is still weeping

You gather the vapor
from all around me
of what I have so carelessly given away
and from it, form a cloud
of cleansing rain above my head
to wash away all fear and dread
with Your kind, insistent shower~
to clear the dust of my diminishment
and reveal the gift of gracious power
You have bestowed upon me

Sometimes I feel
I sleep beneath
the mountain of my prayers
My light reluctant and resting underground
Oh…I have found treasure there
in the dark deep necessity of my hiding;
a Faithful Presence there abiding
while I so busy about mothering and othering
I did not notice I was smothering
in a cold cave of my own making

But once again
You are quaking
in my simple soul
So invested You are
in ushering me into the Light
and kissing me Whole~
in healing me and vesting me
in Your Own colorful finery~

a flower in Your Field,
face upturned to the Sun.

Brigid Clare Oak lives a quiet life of poetry, prayer, and presence. She is a liturgist, vocalist, and composer of spiritual songs, and works also in the field of elder care and companioning. Brigid is mother to three beloved children; two grown sons and a teenage daughter. Together they enjoy copious amounts of tea, laughter, and love. 

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~


Popular posts from this blog

MY HEART SEEPS by Edith Lazenby

Courage is not only facing fear, but also looking past fear, to see what lies it tells and truths it saves...
Sometimes I sit at a computer in trepidation. The house trembles and I wonder what I will find. 
Truth is not a fact or a feeling. It may rest on love’s heart and walk with integrity. It may stand beyond humanity in ways we can only imagine. Truth can be solid as earth and fickle as wind. But a wind can know stillness and the earth can crack wide open.
Tonight I found a stillness in a crack and managed to balance there...

My Heart Seeps
by Edith Lazenby
I cannot hold on And I cannot let go. I walk a path I don’t know. I feel moonlight But cannot see Its orb midst The cloudy cold. My hands tremble. My eyes tear. My toes wriggle To grasp earth. I want to stand Tall in the light Yet fear shadows all. Inside I crumble Under the weight I cannot shoulder.

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…

DEPRESSION by Veronica Carpenter

Here goes my vulnerability A heart on a sleeve The typical person who looks at me May not see the same me that I live with daily The mind in the air, swirling with possibility When the darkness rallies/gathers/swirls When I am left to solitude This paper-thin garb unzips Here comes depression          
No I don’t want to advertise So flash a smile Those who are close get to see Through the veil, it’s really not that thick Circumstances in life like to stab at the rib Stumble, fall behind the door Shut out the world Feelings well and weigh down Strength hidden deep in the core So deep that sometimes it’s forgotten Here comes the darkness My old friend Sweeping through my every move  Doubts, fears, un-named masked men Oozing like honey, sticking to everything
Patience is required to get on this ride There is a cycle but its pattern is unknown Slowly my gift will unwrap itself Stay on the path Coming back to that which never truly left me Just laid sleeping out of exhaustion from the fight Dormant in winter…