Upcycling

Every time you threw me away

I escaped and ran straight back to you

both of us pretending to forget why

until the last time

you piled so much trash on top of me

I did not know what was me

and what was trash

Eventually I remembered who I am

an imperfect woman who deserves better

I climbed out

I walked straight home

I did not break up with you

so much as I broke up

with a part of myself

that allowed myself to be thrown away

I decide what stays

and what goes

I am upcycling

becoming someone more 

than the sum of my parts

Copyright 2020 Diana Shellenberger

Paradox

Paradox

Before sunrise

silhouettes of peaks rear up

as high as any I’ve seen

At this altitude

the earth tilts toward sunlight

in seeming slow motion

Like the star it is

the sun appears white hot pulsating

between two aretes 

From where I stand

the peaks remain mysteriously untouched

by heat and light

cold and black as spent coals

I practice subjecting myself to paradox

neither accepting nor rejecting 

the light and the dark

of the sun and the peaks

the light and the dark

within me

letting Nature become

Copyright Diana Shellenberger 2020

Choice

Choice

The pious who make excuses 

for the sins of their leaders

must enjoy witnessing their anti-heroes

getting away with what

they themselves secretly dream of doing

All humans learn to be ashamed

but for some their shame metastasizes

into rooting for those 

whose shamelessness is mistaken for boldness

Rather than enjoying what they have

they spend their days worrying

about what will be taken away from them

as if all is earned and nothing is given

These idolaters appoint a stand-in for God

and rather than rising 

they fall

reasoning that if water can become wine

sin can become virtue

rather than something to atone for

For them words are boundaries

to keep out the strangers

doubt, forgiveness, connection, transformation

They do not acknowledge that words are also invitations

to grow in wisdom and equanimity

Their leaders say they didn’t know

they were doing anything wrong

but they would do it again

This is evil playing dumb

One may know the Bible

chapter and verse

without knowing

the difference between good and evil

Confusing the devil for God 

is a choice

a vulnerable world can no longer afford

Copyright Diana Shellenberger 2019

Art by poet/maker William Blake

Blank Pages

Blank Pages

Following every pattern change

every streaming color 

of the mind’s kaleidoscope

sends me into vertigo

I mistakenly believe I must be true

to these fluctuations

though I am no more obligated

to trace these shapes

than I am required

to color inside the lines

Five pelicans soaring

light as clouds

spiral their languorous way

to their friend floating in the lake

There is no preset midair path

no blinking lights to guide them

They are free to close the distance 

between them and their friend

any way they choose

They remind me I’m here 

to dream and create 

on the blank pages of this lifetime

Healing

Healing

Forgive me

for focusing on your demons

rather than my own

I have perfected the habit

of pointing to the splinter in your eye

while polishing the plank in mine

I confess 

I will do almost anything

for admiration

except for the actual work 

of earning it

Enlightenment is the end point 

of a process toward liberation

of removing what does not please the Maker

of bearing burdens patiently 

until I can shed them

and live in the light-ness

I don’t know

exactly how it’s done

but I’m open to guidance

I begin

by sliding from the driver’s

to the passenger seat

I receive 

rather than give direction

I stand corrected

rather than offering correction

I want 

to walk into the next world

demon free

without the weapons I carried into this one

without my woundedness

and its terrible power to inflict suffering

I want to be healed

Re-Feeling

Re-Feeling

The word resent is from a late 16th-century French word resentir, the prefix re- expressing intensive force, and sentir, the Latin word for to feel.

Somewhere between truth

and the stories we tell ourselves

is memory

Memory has its way

of distorting what happened

into being better or worse

I have a habit of replaying

my life’s most painful moments

re-feeling the resentment

the injustice

For some things cannot be fixed

They can only be borne

and are improved 

only through gracious acceptance 

of the lessons each event contains

My mother taught me

to take a bite of any food

whether I like it or not

because fussing over what’s put in front of you 

not only insults the Maker

it is ungrateful

and guarantees insatiability

You are not a baby

putting everything into your mouth

You have learned the difference

between poison and nectar

parasite and ally

Most of life is lived

between these extremes

and yet 

it is no less vivid

Greet each moment 

for what it has to offer

and what it might require of you

The Hygiene of the Spirit

The Hygiene of the Spirit

I don’t want to make war with you

I don’t want to make love with you

If I could I would

make peace with you

Like war and love

making peace takes two

I can

make peace within myself

I accept

my part of the failure we share

and not a morsel more

I displace

resentment and disappointment

with commitment to improvement

of the atmosphere 

within my heart 

and within my mind

I practice 

the hygiene of the spirit

sweeping up the bitter crumbs I can see

mopping away any residue

and polishing it to a high shine

today

tomorrow

and every day

Copyright 2019

Diana Shellenberger