the first week of october /  by Ellen Sorensen

it always happens the first week of october 

just like the birds, my friends fly south for the winter

it’s predictable that i’m left saddened 

summers over and i’ve been abandoned 

 

i usually stop talking and start thinking 

with the lights dimmed and a record playing 

thirty years and still caught in between 

embracing here and finding another kind of green

 

is who i am, who i’ll always be? 

god forbid, for he made me free

all the love i’ve fought for ardently

i pray will come back abundantly 

 

so in this time when i feel insufficient 

that i must find a new calling or mission

i’ll remember they named me light for a reason 

and rest knowing I’m hitting the stride of my season

benched /  by Ellen Sorensen

benched. 

 

the torturous flight path 

of some injured sparrow 

on an agile descent 

toward the earth. 

 

the time lapse of a

year of sunrises and sunsets

only the first seven mesmerize you

then your eyes glaze over.

 

waiting, stopping 

accelerating 

on some endless 

and unrelenting cycle.

 

yellow, pause

red, pause

green, pause 

repeat

 

the lows are 

as black and unknown 

as the bottom of the ocean 

 

the highs 

induce a feeling most associated 

with some sublime psychedelic trip

 

and here i am

minute to minute

falling in places all over 

the proverbial board

 

wondering why it is my fate

to have such exhausting and wonderful

feelings pulsing through my

neurological system without cease

 

my star player has been on the field 

running end line to end line 

dehydration and fatigue are 

causing him to be sloppy 

 

he must be 

benched 

until he recovers

unknown and invisible /  by Ellen Sorensen

unknown and invisible 

sinking into the comfort of my own skin 

of my own secrets

i am me and she is my everything 

*****

your heart and your soul

meshed with mine in the few 

moments 

when your orbit collided with

my year round the sun 

 

and they were the best days

drinking whiskey on smokey patios

and we dueled

in the sophisticated darkness 

of each other's minds

 

but the rain has come again 

the days of rescue are over

you are long gone

but every so often 

i find you buried in the pages of 

someone else's words 

things i know well /  by Ellen Sorensen

there are things that i know well

like being proper and kind and 

how to cover my body 

so no one can see

anything about me 

 

they made it my default 

so i tried for a while to comply

and i thought i was happy 

because i was making everyone else 

happy 

 

turns out, that lifestyle

is not sustainable

 

so i learned new things

like how to wear red lipstick 

and move my body in ways that felt right

and implemented healthy boundaries 

 

sometimes i think about all those sunday's 

i sat in pews

how i developed love and friendship 

but also expectations, guilt, and fear

it still doesn't make sense 

 

but when sit down 

in the middle of the woods 

it starts to

i see you and call out your name /  by Ellen Sorensen

i see you and call out your name

but you hide away in fear and shame

"come", i call

but you fall asleep, barely remembering

the way i touched you in the dark

the way the sunrise surprises the night

and disappears again

 

what are you fighting?

who are your demons? 

 

you say, "i'm jaded"

and i just want to know

if you could heal your open wounds

if you could love again 

 

i don't want your bullshit excuses

for why you can't let things go

i see your strength, your ferocity 

your undying resilience 

i've met the devil inside you

and he doesn't scare me

 

what gives me tremors at night

is your indifference 

your blasé attitude 

towards the sacred, the intimate, 

the vulnerability and passion it takes

to be truly alive 

discipline yourself /  by Ellen Sorensen

discipline yourself in the matters of selfcare 

 

take care of your skin, it's your biggest organ

invest in those things that have a return value

use candlelight to warm the darkest of hearts 

spend time with those who reciprocate 

befriend those who are different than you 

prioritize time with family

eat more vegetables

spend thirty minutes outside everyday 

once a year, purge your things 

always have something to look forward to whether big or small

read and write often 

if you have a fireplace, use it

don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today 

elevate everyday tasks so they're something you enjoy 

 

and above all, make your damn bed

sunflower skies shadowed /  by Ellen Sorensen

sunflower skies shadowed by a smokey haze 

a hundred days without rain and a spark

created this valencia sunrise 

and i can't tell if I'm sweating

from the wildfire 

or the september heat

and i can't tell if I'm crying 

from the ash in my eyes

or the heartbreak of losing a haven

the stars haven't started sleeping yet /  by Ellen Sorensen

the stars haven't started sleeping yet

and neither have i 

awake with the nauseousness

of too little sleep 

 

so i keep writing words

like someone will hear me

hoping that the process

will calm me down 

 

but blank canvases can't hold me 

like i want to be held 

words can't soften the blow 

of an empty bed

 

can you come home now?

it's a loaded question 

because there has to be more 

than being busy but feeling empty 

fingertips tap at my lips /  by Ellen Sorensen

fingertips tap at my lips

thoughts linger and fade 

and repeat 

just like these warm days 

 

this summer has been a hurricane 

spinning around 

city to city to city 

mountain to river to dessert 

 

stealing little pieces 

of my most favorite souls

and getting drunk 

off their love 

 

and all this beauty 

is making my head spin 

the best type of intoxication 

let me rest in the eye of it all

let me find you in the dark /  by Ellen Sorensen

let me find you in your dark 

when you don't know the difference 

between up and down 

between your place or mine 

between the sheets and blankets 

 

let me know you in your vulnerable 

when you don't know who you are 

between boy and man 

between fear and courage 

between jokes and serious 

 

let me know you when you are strong 

when you are ready for a woman's heart

let me love you 

let me love you 

let me love you

don't say those words /  by Ellen Sorensen

don't say those words

the ones that kill me and kill you

you yelled out to me

 

i don't trust myself

i'm over it

i'm leaving 

i don't need anyone 

i can do it alone 

 

and i don't believe you

maybe you need time 

maybe you want to be alone for a while

maybe you don't trust anyone right now

 

but when you call me 

from hundreds of miles away

and i hear the hurt and the tears 

stuck in your throat 

 

i can't let you

i won't let you 

give up

following the trail to the left /  by Ellen Sorensen

following the trail to the left

under the landing flight path 

between the aspen trees and

the sweet aromas of summer blackberries

 

there have been new sounds

as this season transitions 

the light crackle of heating pods

seeds ready to burst forth

 

a bright breeze rustles the warm leaves

caressing them out of the sky 

dancing an intimate waltz to the forest floor

where it awaits transfiguration to its next life

can it be? /  by Ellen Sorensen

can it be? 

this life created so carefully 

can you see?

the way it passes so rapidly? 

 

all of us searching and yearning for meaning 

some us find it and are actually gleaning 

 

no measure of translating can really define

the effort it takes to digest the find

 

and even through there is a similar thread 

no one can predict what's directly ahead

 

so we hold on to words like hope, beauty, and truth

and love like we're still in the days of our youth.

 

i reach out for that golden glow /  by Ellen Sorensen

i reach out for that golden glow

the first glimmer of light beyond 

the shadowy peaks of the mountains 

painted in deep violets and indigos

 

she calls to me, with silent magnificience

looking out over a landscape 

of indescribable beauty and awe

she captivates and quiets my soul 

 

her voice whispers truths so enlightening

my lips must not speak

i hold the beauty inside 

letting the light radiate from within

is this how the day goes? /  by Ellen Sorensen

is this how the day goes

all summer long? 

driving the highways while playing 

my favorite song? 

 

i could get used to this 

for the rest of the year

reading in my hammock 

just drinking my favorite beer

 

the nights are nice 

but the days are longer 

and with each passing day 

my heart gets stronger 

 

let's let the waves come and 

crash on this shore

and we'll pretend that time 

doesn't exist anymore 

 

this juxtaposed reality is my current companion /  by Ellen Sorensen

this juxtaposed reality is my current companion

to open my heart to a new love

to feel torn apart by a lost love

and the current is dragging me along

joy in the morning 

tears at night 

and work and sleeping between 

 

sadness is an unwelcome friend 

i know her well, but never on my terms

she barges in, never minding my current state of affairs 

she poisons my happiness 

so the bitterness overwhelms my tongue 

 

there's moments when i'm strong 

when my defenses withhold her demands 

where i can breath without choking for breathe 

where i can smile and turn my palms upward in thanksgiving 

and let the celestial light guide me home

 

the pulls don't scare me anymore

it's a natural part of humanity

the push and pull of gravity

we orbit, we cycle, we evolve

and somehow, the natural place for us, it's right in the middle of it all

i've been quick to breath these days /  by Ellen Sorensen

i've been quick to breath these days

letting all this summer air sink into my lungs

let's get sun drunk together 

and feast on the berries that stain our lips 

 

and these are the wildwood days 

laying in the shade of green under a sky of blue 

on a blanket my grandmother made

in the days of her youth 

 

so inhale with all of your might 

because the stories of you soul 

are about to unfold 

under the sun of the summer