Hanging in the Balance



You’re my grounding,
trunk branches that reach above earth.
You cradle me,
grounded in soil
in grit
in grime, grease –
solid you move
connect through and to
our earth, and I float. Overhead
seeing all of you seeing all of me
below watching us touch
one another, watching us flow,
watching the way we push and push
each other toward cliffs,
yours that side, mine this.

My heart cracks open like an egg.

Because I float,
I fly, because forever
and for always I’ll know
who you are, where you come from,
how you’ll die. The earth
serving you. Your stability
serving to hold me up, high above
all that’s concrete, all that’s human.

The cliffs can destroy only so much.
Baby, the branches. . .
crawl up them. Look,
if you choose
the right one, you can ride
on my moon.

©  Karyn Crispo 2015

Love Poems? Really?

crabapplesNot long ago I got a very strong message in my dreams. The message came at a time when I was mumbling through some self-inflicted struggle in my life.

So, what’s the message I got?

Write Love poems.

Spirit always talks to us in our own “language.” The Universe wants to get through, so it does what it must to be heard.

Beyond blogging and working on a book for mamas, I’m a poet. I have been a lover of poetry my entire life. I pursued poetry through graduate work, but after I became a mama, my writing slowed and slowed down.

Mothering days seemed so rushed with managing a household, caring for a child, taking care of work, that somewhere along the way, I forgot to write poems.

I have always believed in poetry as a healing medium. So in recent years, more than writing, my focus has been on sharing this medium with others and reading and discovering poems that move me.

But write Love poems?

The Universe knows me well because immediately my graduate-degree-obtaining ego proceeded to resist. I began to explain all the reasons why love poems are overrated, or shallow, or unable to fully express truth. I was put in my place quickly.

These are poems of gratitude. Each day choose one thing in your world that you are grateful for, and write a poem of Love directly to it.

And so the journey began. The path has been touch and go. Sometimes the poems come together smoothly and are given to me in one whole piece. Sometimes they are choppy. Sometimes they’re lacking because it’s a day when I can’t quite figure out what it is I want to thank. Some days I choose something but have no idea how to address it. Some days I just don’t get around to writing a Love poem at all.

But I try, and it’s a process that has shifted my outlook considerably.

You don’t have to write poems. Find your own way to express gratitude each day. Each day choose one thing or person or situation to thank.

The most important thing we can ever do is express gratitude. Not just for the things that go our way, but for the things that don’t. Ultimately, those things aren’t working out the way we had wished simply because something better is in the works for us or because we just weren’t quite ready.

Trust the process.

The more you express gratitude, even for the challenges and lessons you encounter, the more of what you want will begin to show up in your life. You don’t have to take my word for it; try it. Try it every day for 40 days. And then tell me what you see in your life.

I’m choosing miracles. I’ll share one of mine:


Today, gathered rain drips from tips
of your leaves, your red fruit
complimenting a green world.

I’ve only known you for one year, and still
you stand gently before my home
begging me to emerge, to walk
into your aura, to feel sky on my face,
to put Light into the world.

Patient, you wait, bringing me bright pink
blossoms in springtime. Unconditional,
you love me. Yet just today
I noticed I matter to you.

Last winter I watched blue jays
holler and tease on your branches,
speaking their truths, but never did I

realize, until this rainy autumn morning,
that you’re on purpose for me,
that you hold me, blue jays, and apples
up against the sky

as if to say: all of this is yours,
when you’re in it
it becomes alive.

I feel like you decided


I feel like you decided
you didn’t want this.  You jumped ship.
You’re in your lifeboat,
it’s dead dark, only silverfish
light the sky.  You’re watching
my face fade
into a speck on a deck.
You get up, jiggle your feet
on the floor of your rowboat.
Sir, everyone is screaming,
sit down.  You’re risking everything.
But you won’t stop looking
even if I’m an amoeba
on a toy ship.  Maybe it’s frigid
air that has your tears falling.
But I swear, I know: you want
to jump, you want to swim.
You fucked up.  If you try
to come back now, ice water
will paralyze you. And so what
do we do? Remember? When I’m with you
I feel alive?  Remember
how we laughed at the absurdity?
When Im with you
my heart beats.  Now
you’re in a boat,
water below zero.   It’ll stop
that beat.  Are you are torn?
Because there’s part of you
here on ship.  There’s no doubt,
my eyes are crying.
There’ll be a strong cocktail
tonight.  There’ll be five.
I’ll lay down in my cabin,
I’ll stammer: God, thank you
for showing me
what it means to love. Amen.