TRACY BROOKS believes in the power of poetry and stories. As an intuitive empath and Shamanic healer, she offers channeled writings and poems to support others, www.facebook.com/soulbeckons. Death has always been a teacher to her and she has communicated with those that have passed on for most of her life. This whispering between worlds is the foundation of her first book, which is being finished now. When not writing, she is busy homeschooling her children, receiving wisdom from her dog, teaching yoga to young people, and offering various spiritual practices to others. www.tracybrookswriter.com
—
Dodoitsu
what one leaves behind softly
chases the shadows over
cascading tears clouding now
over and over time plays
return home soon please
Dance of the Jacaranda
—
Ode to Garlic
the chopping always calls me
remembrance found in a smell
stoop sitting
windows open
childhood’s hunger
the tastes of home tapping me
unmistakable aroma
undeniable flavor
garlic fills the air
forgetting for this moment
troubles and disappointments
for in the movements of a meal
no matter what the world has become
the smell always calls the healing
gathering around the table
stories shared
palates soothed
devouring life
together for a time
savoring every bite
—
does this poem evoke a certain word/feeling?
it feels like skin
heavy to carry
impossible to remove
my movements must reflect my ambiguity
yet a certain numbness sets in when the flesh of this is unattended
it is almost like air
impossible to escape
it reaches every one alive
the only defense is to harden every space
you think you have appeased it
perhaps learned to walk in grace
but sometimes on a Saturday
rain will bring it back
or something so profoundly beautiful will catch your eye
off guard you may be holding some flower
inside the gurgling of the forgotten goodbyes
(what was with me in this was *grief*)
—
diagnosis
be still
slow down longing
sit with who you once were
let the awkward silence shake you
listen to the ache
—
Recollections and Songs
Sitting by the open window
I feel the breeze softly leaning in
Shadows dancing upon the walls
I surrender to the knowings
My heart holds a forgotten song
I let the longing to remember rise
I welcome the pulls of long cast aside things
I honor their return to me
Humming the tune
Holding the feeling
Believing the music
—
27 of the bursted blooms
carpet made of purple
dancing daily
seemingly as if today was the only day for such a show
yet daily the soft cascades of Spring
will make themselves seem deeply important
every year they dance their surrender
each time I feel both delighted and disappointed
change happens so swiftly
I get so moved by the showing up and letting go that I am teary
Life is so full of showing up to bloom
letting go over and over
—
RIBBONS OF FLESH
Sacred tears obliterated
pressed and perfect suits
devour and piece back together
years of hope and reverence
now the magnificent ribbons
all soaked in the blood
embellished attempts
reclaiming greatness
sparse hearts and fat pockets
decimate what mother has left them
earth is heavy with uncontainable grief
unholy greed can’t be hidden
despite the colors and fabrics
the blow has hit the marrow
hushed and hallowed are the fragments
yet selfishness will be called on to make amends
Dedicated to #nodapl #waterislife
—
Gates Within
When the time comes to change direction
be ready for the fight
for this change isn’t birthed easy
Allow the death of innocence
to bid the bud her last desire
let her leave untethered
for the rooms within need space
When valves are closed off
return to the source of joy
the places you’ve tucked away
don’t resist this movement
Briefly held in nebulous static
yet time and trust
bring forth new powers
gates sway and open slowly
Rise up from within
let your transformation fledge to flow
turn off the noise of outside
tune in to your body’s wisdom
Gates within are opening
you are asked to become what you are
opening into the next adventure
birthing your newness
—
Sunrise, interrupted
Sometimes
the way the early light dances
reminds me of the longest goodbyes
Of climbing back home
over and over
before dawn’s out breath
leaving troubles on the steps outside
Farewell doesn’t ask for promises
in the hours of the mists
here the dream becomes the dreamer
forgotten longings coil at our feet
When the echoes of death begin soft whispers
return to your home within
letting the prods lean upon your flesh
stealing extra breaths
Resistance wastes time
time won’t wait
gathering tissues and courage
meeting the imminent departure
The chosen poised for take off
just waiting for the lift
Inhale upon the moment
sunlight now moves in
Face to face
heart to heart
singing into the beautiful beckoning
free to become
a magnificent ray of light