I.
I need to rest but toss and turn,
both ends of the candle I burn.
Father said this throughout the years.
He’d yell “Go to sleep!”
I’d end up in tears.
But now: semi-supine:
a new old way to recline,
I lay down on my back, and let hands uncurl.
Let head lie on books about the world.
Let knees rise so torso unhooks and unwinds.
Arms and elbows are free: shoulders let them go,
neck lengthens and head lies low. Neck has no work to do.
Legs have no work to do. I don’t have to hold up anything.
I don’t have to hold in anything.
Foot to head, I am held by the floor.
Breathe in peace, breathe tension out the door.
II.
Freed, I grieve for things I cannot change:
immoral wars, hate, needless deaths, the whole range.
I remind myself to take these to the forest
and allow in comfort from my surroundings
and constructive rest.
Breathe in and breathe out for the old sofa
with mismatched cushions. Read again and again
the rug that hangs over it: “Love thy neighbor as thyself.”
Watch the black cat lie flat on the wide windowsill.
Note the room is full of love and purrs.
Breathe in and breathe out love
for parents whose voices still ring in my head,
for friends near and far, for movements
I can support but not engage in.
Breathe in, breathe out. Sigh.
III.
I’m in the middle of a poem about resting.
My body is rested, but my mind resists,
feeling ashamed at how little I do in the world.
I remember to take my grief and this shame,
too, out to the forest. Tell the truth.
Truth to inner light
and out to world spirit.
I do what I can. I do what I can.
The forest is dark and sweet
I move a few steps in
and read to the trees.
For my prompt "Rest/relax" at What's Going On?
My blog poems are rough drafts.Please respect my copyright.© 2025 Susan L. Chast
This is wonderful, Susan........I resonate with every line. I, too, gieve for things I cannot change. But as you say we do what we can. I love the taking one's grief into the forest . Those two closing stanzas are extra special.
ReplyDelete"feeling ashamed at how little I do in the world." Please do not feel like that. You are truly one of those rare souls who FEEL and do your utmost to live a well intentioned life. "I do what I can. I do what I can." This is all we can do. I love how the poem comes to its final lines.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, I really like these lines in the first stanza: " I don’t have to hold up anything. I don’t have to hold in anything." They strike me as very restful thoughts, which should be one's mantra as one tries to fall asleep.
ReplyDeleteThe second stanza, about grief and love, is one I can empathize with. These are the kinds of thoughts that circle in my head when I cannot rest.
In the third stanza, I like the idea of taking one's thoughts to the forest. The forest is a good listener! And a good refuge.
"My body is rested, but my mind resists,
ReplyDeletefeeling ashamed at how little I do in the world.
I remember to take my grief and this shame,
too, out to the forest. Tell the truth."
I feel this. The forest is where I go to write. And in writing I tell the truth. That's all any of us can do.
All you can do in life is give it your best shot. From little things big things grow . My grandfather survivor of service in two world wars said the most important thing in life was not having money but to be able to sleep soundly at night.
ReplyDeleteFrom the resting to the grieving to the struggle to make sense of the world... felt every word. In the city I find no green solace so I bury myself in books and thoughts....and listen to the tireless bulbuls.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful end - and a thoughtful meditation - I love how you have formed it too - Like a hymn or a prayer - Jae
ReplyDeleteOur minds can put up a good fight when we're trying to get centered, even when our bodies are at rest. Grief and shame especially have that effect, as you've so vividly expressed here!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great recipe for a cure from tension/care/insomnia. Now I'll have to try that, Susan. Did I mention how much I liked your poem? :-)
ReplyDeleteMy poem set to music is here:
https://youtu.be/CcICpqg3ckE?si=X7jBCQk7OipQZwa2
Love your cat, Susan. He/she has the right idea, lay in the sun and watch the birds. I'm liking your division, you sound like a retired worker who had to organize somethings or someone's. I talk to the birds, I don't try waking the trees
ReplyDeleteThank you for your visit. I've been writing for Friday, they are getting thin. I love to write, not the best though. I have a couple/three in mind but haven't even any outlines. Maybe I should retire from housekeeping and cooking.
A beautiful meditative poem, Susan. We do what we can, though it might seem trivial. Your ending stanza is perfect!
ReplyDelete