LIFTED – Comeback Poetry For A Needed Time

Therapist-Santa-Rosa-Lifted-Poetry“Lifted is impeccably honest and rare. Kristy Hellum shares with us poetry that makes suffering almost seem worthwhile. Let yourself be staggered by a phrase. This is raw and important wisdom for a time of chaos. Her poetic encouragement for authentic grieving is brilliant, seductive, and aimed straight for the heart. May we all be so fortunate to be touched by poetry that makes us want to sing and dance, laugh and cry, all in the same moment.”

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Excerpts from LIFTED – Comeback Poetry For A Needed Time

On Aging Fiercely

I am going to seed

Look around

All these blessings need scattering


There is an art to Elderhood
It is time to ask the
IMPORTANT question:
Where do I spread all of these seeds
I have collected?

I thought It disloyal at first
To the holy worship of youth
But hiding the baubles of delight
Has become impossible.

The splashy bangles
Around my bones keep jangling
sounding like hooray hooray!

Or I admit sometimes
Ouch ouch!
Which is simply
An invitation
To slow the hell down

Who knew walking
Could be considered graceful
Or even sultry?
I lean towards the latter

And I will carry no ordinary cane
Already a hand carved
Walking-stick inlaid with
Chakra colored stones
Waits kindly
Against the far wall.

One day I may use it
As my planting stick
Or perhaps encouragement
To stand taller
To better see where
I am to scatter
All of the seed-blessings
That keep filling my pockets.

~Kristy Hellum 2019

A Formidable Fragrance Comes From Your Garden

Have you noticed how
Age and Wisdom
have been kissing
your face these days?

It’s pouring through you –
Your radiance is making the
Zinnias and the Dahlias
Tell the gardener,
“I want what she’s having”
Blooming all the way
Through winter.

Cupped Hands

Find a teacher
Preferably one that lives
Close by,
Very close,
Like inside

Then build a container
You don’t have to cut down a tree
Letting the wood season all year
In the forest or buy a lathe
Or sign up for a wood turning class

All you have to do is
Cup your hands
They become their own container
Your sacred bowl
Now whisper a prayer into
Those cupped hands
They hold all the prayers
You have yet to pray

If you do not know
How to pray
Simply say to yourself:
Thank you
A thousand or eight thousand times

If you wonder who you’re praying to
Don’t worry, everyone wonders this most of the time

The rabbi while reciting a blessing
The monk while sipping tea
The devout catholic alone in her room

Please Please Please
Thank you Thank you Thank you

Or the other way around
It doesn’t matter which comes first;

A teacher
A container
Prayer or

A Poetic Argument for Grief

Have you cried enough in this lifetime?
Take your grief seriously
Become the ash urn
For the vanishing wilderness
Despair for the Dolphins

Make your own salt water
for the disappearing marshes
The silent Earth is listening
Be called to outrageous acts of despair

And then
every now and again,
In the face of splendor,
Turn towards it.