the edges of myself

words, words, words

a gentle sigh, an allowance, releasing

that which has held a clutching grip

for longer than i can possibly fathom–

the simplicity of breathing in and out,

finding my breath in full–


the grief that i didn’t know existed

to flow gently down my cheeks–

making tracks through the garden dust

and grime.


the mourning of an idea


in the precious, innocent mind

of a child– the unclenching fingers–

cramped and mangled by the fist they

were unaware they held.  the barking–

an audible cry to





that i have lost something–


but gained



released a cherished idea that was

so deeply rooted that i recognized it

as my own flesh– knew it as i know my

heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of my breath.

an idea so constant and fixed that i can’t fathom

its inception– but as it crumbles it brings with it

such joy and ease (through the tears).

A tender understanding of something

that has always been waiting in the wings–

poised for the moment when the spotlight shone

and my recognition dawned–


that family is fluid

an easy, flowing dance without destination–

teeming with laughter and sometimes sadness,

a little anger and frustration thrown in for good measure–

but always continuous

like water in a stream, or the eb and flow

of the ocean tides


and love

is only capable of creating



4 thoughts on “on fluidity

  1. yeoldefoole says:

    this is awesome – I love the way you keep coming back to the body as the poem moves to its concluding.

    1. mandycregan says:

      thanks. i love the way you pointed out something to me about the poem that i hadn’t even noticed– so nice to reread with someone else’s thoughts in mind. i really love your poetry and appreciate your comments immensely.

      1. yeoldefoole says:

        you did an awesome thing here, making us FEEL what is essentially an invisible, inner process. (and thank you for your kind comments!)

      2. mandycregan says:

        wow. thank you. i guess i did– which makes sense, since i’m a feeler and poetry is in large part a processing of my feelings. so nice for you to articulate these things for me. really and truly, thanks.

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