Outside of Time (Day 510)

Have you ever sat 

outside of time? 

Eternal, immobile as 

a towering mountain? 

Felt the wind ruffle 

your hair, the same 

way it tousles leaves 

in old-growth forests? 

Quiet, still, knowing 

where and when you 

are, being everywhere, 

always. Just you, and 

your willingness to let 

go, allowing your hard 

edges to soften and 

melt into the sinuous 

estuary of which you 

are but a drop.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: PxHere

Try It Now (Day 508)

How many tones ring 

in your ears when 

you silence Them?

When you uninvite 

Them from the daily

celebration that is 

your morning coffee?

When you mute Their 

urgent, insincere pleading 

and fearmongering?

Do you suddenly 

hear papery leaves

—mere buds, last time 

you noticed them—

rustling in the whisper 

of a breeze?

How many heartbeats, 

before eternity settles 

back into your center?

Until the exquisite 

smallness of the everyday 

smooths the lines of

tension from your brow? 

Try it now, and 

count yourself 

among the blessed.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Winslow Homer, Girl in a Hammock, 1873

Oil on canvas, Colby Museum of Art (via Wikimedia Commons)

Holding On (Day 461)

Raspberry Beret.

Twenty-six flights of stairs.

Over and over.

Old proverb tells us:

Youth is wasted on the young.

Thoughtlessly squandered.

How else could it be?

It’s painful, living, loving.

If we knew, would we?

Lovers, parents, pets,

Smooth skin, stamina, joints, minds—

We learn to let go.

Think how tragic death would be,

If we died still holding on.

(c) by Hannah Six

Bridge (Day 432)

Bridge of no burdens. 

Leaf-green light, bright with warblers.

Beneath, clear stream flows.

(c) by Hannah Six

Image: Bergadder/Pixabay

Her White Whale (Day 389)

shaking her head at the modern world’s distaste 

for promises, she vowed instead to pursue her 

White Whale deep into the indigo mystery

to that end, eyes wide open, she dove headlong

into an icy pool of stars, and broke the surface 

again in a shimmering burst of breath and water

later, sinking into the multi-layered depths of midnight,

she found herself wondering if she wanted to 

awaken from the liquid solitude of dreamless sleep

but a ghostly fluke, like mermaid hair, beckoned, 

and she leaned into the sweet awareness of loving

the precious freedom of being neither here nor there 

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: iwona_kellie via Wikimedia

Aura (Day 349)

Felt your presence 

    in my room 

      this morning, before 

I was fully aware, 

there,

pressing 

        like thumbs 

     against my eyelids, 

  and I knew:   you 

had come 

to spend the day

with me. 

(c) 2018, by Hanneah Six

Making art (Day 342)

Making lingering art

a public dream 

of dark bars and 

coffeeshops

sleeping ghosts and 

mystical gifts. 

The fine raw 

humming energy 

arising from 

the work itself 

rewarding 

the fatal selfishness 

of creating  

of giving  

and the unexpectedly 

selfless grace 

of taking 

time and energy 

to receive 

the finished work. 

Without the one

the other would fail.

Without the other

the one would 

never have been.  

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Pot Pourri, 1897 (oil on canvas) 

by Herbert James Draper; private collection

via Wikimedia Commons

Beach Fire (Day 328)

Freighters’ lights, like stars,

glimmer and swim

in the distance. Between swells, 

they fall from view. Our eyes 

track their progress, instinctively

seeking their reappearance

each time they drop into vast 

watery valleys below the black 

horizon. Watching driftwood burn,

we feel the cold sand dampening.

Nearby, waves tumble and hiss,

closer now than before. The tide 

is turning. We must go.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Aris_Tsitiridis

Unbroken (Day 299)

imagine

having a heart

that had never been

broken

or a spirit

that had known

only joy

the topography

of a life 

like that   

unmarred by yearning

unchanging   unearned

a bleak and  

featureless expanse

as far as the eye could see

like awakening

yawning and stretching  

into a nightmare

of eternal ennui

from a dream

rich with longing

and love

and loss

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

On a Bench (Day 297)

On a gray bench she rests 

with faded hands  

eyes half open to the forest 

at her feet  a blanket 

of pink sand delights her 

senses  rinsed clean by 

pure turquoise 

dreams of Saturdays and 

lazy afternoons floating 

in circles beneath 

a gliding hawk while 

dogs barked and 

distant mowers groomed 

the knotted fringe of day

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: MabelAmber

Wanderings (Day 296)

rain soaked wanderings and clear 

soft mistakes  summer traced 

familiar playground paths where 

flooded streams of shade spread 

in a flood  returning sleep suggests 

once steady worlds of gardens cooled 

by the familiar fluttering moon 

(c) 2017 by Hannah Six

Image: PatMorgan

Mirror (Day 292)

Shivering mirror

petals punctuate 

each breath  rising

and subsiding

rippling outside-in  

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: AdrianKirby

In All the World (Day 289)

Not a care 

  exists 

    in all 

    the world

for us

   our dreams 

   our lies  our loves

   our losses

beyond our own

sun  

   moon  

      distant 

   spiraling 

galaxies 

     none will 

pause 

for a single 

moment  consider 

or disregard 

our empires of 

self/importance 

we can 

rest peacefully

in this 

knowledge  take 

solace  and 

breathe awhile. 

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Earth and her moon from Saturn’s rings 

NASA/JPL-Caltech/Space Science Institute

First Cup (Day 284)

morning blue 

as twilight 

first sunbeams 

kiss my cup

ghostly steam 

pirouettes

(c) by Hannah Six

Image: bark via Flickr

Gate (Day 278)

Metal on metal

Sagging gate peals when opened

Coming  or  going

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Momentmal

Into a Gorge (Day 270)

Last night I 

         subsided into 

a gorge  dark  

  rose and 

     bronze and 

sand  fine and soft 

and deep   closing 

warm  around 

my ankles. Now 

summer  rolling up 

   the snow a dripping 

      towel of cold grit 

and no color on 

   the trees 

coming  tall 

as a wave  high as 

   a delirious flock 

      of Canada geese  

majestic  wise 

carrying our dreams 

to heaven.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: brh1028

Shortcomings (Day 266)

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Talisman (Day 257)

I am unspooling 

into taupe  liquifying in 

an aqueous netherworld 

of subtlety  gentle understanding 

and ancient knowing dwell here 

among the crystal glimmers 

of possibility

don’t birth me into your world 

of fire  don’t drag me kicking 

and screaming 

against  against  against your  

hot  cold 

white  black  

right  wrong 

sears my eyes  their unquestioning 

allegiance wakes me late at night  

in a sweat of skepticism  

no  allow me to remain  

wallowing in what I do 

not know  wrapped in gray layers 

of of hidden meaning  

a gleaming necklace of human 

teeth my talisman against 

the dreams of others

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

The Talisman, 1888, Paul Sérusier

Indulgence No.3 (Day 231)

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image of cake & coffee by Michael Stern

Summer's Song (Day 225)

Dry, sharp grasses bend.

Summer whispers, familiar heaven waits.

Stolid ponds gaze skyward.

Tiny blue-bellies do pushups on warm rocks.

Banal toads sigh among singing frogs.

(c) by Hannah Six