Water-A Poem for Sleep by Jenny Murphy, LMHC
Art in response to another's art is a beautiful thing.
I am here for you she whispered.
A call, so loving and tender.
A small echo heard through most of your days.
Now, you have chosen to listen.
The air has changed, and the sky has dimmed.
These are signals that the day is done.
Relief washes over you.
Your exhale releases over the
Cool damp air, stretched out and slow.
Your daily tasks, both finished and unfinished are left behind.
All the doing and rushing has ended.
It is time to just be.
You are here, at the water's edge.
Your feet grounded in the cool, wet sand.
You wade into clear, clean water
that welcomes you, like an old friend.
Your body softens, and breathes fully
Into the light and slowness of dusk.
You lean into the water, and feel your toes lift,
At once, you become weightless and free.
The water is holding you.
Your body and mind begin to float
In between sky and ground.
In this space, you can finally, and completely let go.
Above you is the wide open sky
Below you is solid ground.
Before you is an endless horizon.
Behind you, waves are gently pushing toward shore.
The moving water gently washes away all that is no longer needed.
These things are left on shore with the tangled seaweed, and broken shells.
The gifts will be revealed to you in blue green seaglass, rounded stones and
Sun bleached feathers.
You feel light and free,
Your heart is open, and your body is relaxed.
You hear her loving and tender whisper: I am here for you.
You are ready, I give you grace, and ease.
You deserve to rest and restore.
I grant you blissful permission.
Relax and let go...
Into peaceful sleep.
Transformation - A Prayer
Knowing A Poem for Sleep for Melissa by Jenny Murphy
I don't know what to do
You say with this uncovering
Layer upon layer you peel off
what has been hidden.
An onions outer layers
Are thin, and translucent,
Like golden paper, reflecting light.
As the layers shed, they reveal
Thick, opaque, and pungent
Fruit that is pure, white and radiant.
Circling in and in and in, you draw spirals
And circles, and onions, with words flowing out
From the middle.
An onion grows from the inside out.
First sprouting ripe and green, reaching up for the sun.
Underground, its white center is formed and protected.
Layer after layer,
It might feel like you are a fish out of water.
Gasping for air, belly side up.
Exposed and exhausted.
Trust though, that the rain will come,
And will create a tidepool, perfect for you to
Rest. The rain will nourish the garden,
The deepest roots
Will keep you connected to the earth
And will hold you steady as you continue
to grow towards the light.