From the collection, Church of Shadow and Light
It may be
you feel at war
with a stranger.
It may be
you feel at war
with a neighbor.
It may be
you feel at war
with a friend.
It may be
you feel at war
with yourself.
Do you feel it—the war—when you find it inside?
How its violence wants to feed
on fear or uncertainty or pain?
Too much or not enough, be it space, food, or love
can make a battle feel like the only option
on the quest to live how you want to.
So if that, any of it,
even just a morsel,
tastes true for you...
feel the war–
(usually best done with the support
of someone you trust)
where it wants to live in your body
how it yearns to break out
what it wants to destroy–
and allow the war, whatever wants a fight
–whatever pulses with need to prove power-over–
allow it a chance to float to the surface (don’t force it),
where it can rest
on the calm waters of your skin
as you breathe
or rush alongside
tumbling cascades
as you sweat it out.
It won’t be comfortable.
But it’s on its way
to becoming something else
something seen, felt, and heard; acknowledged
long enough to allow a letting go, claws softening
into that which may, in time, allow an embodied peace.
Heidi Barr (she/her) is a writer and wellness coach whose work is founded on a commitment to cultivating ways of being that are life-giving and sustainable for people, communities, and the planet. She is the author of several books of creative nonfiction, including Collisions of Earth and Sky and Woodland Manitou, and co author of 12 Tiny things. She’s also authored two other poetry collections, one cookbook, and is editor of “The Mindful Kitchen,” a wellness column in The Wayfarer Magazine. One of the inaugural Poets of Place for the lower St. Croix Valley, her poetry has been featured in numerous publications, including the St. Paul Almanac and South Dakota in Poems. She lives with her family in rural Minnesota, where they tend a large vegetable garden, explore nature, and do their best to live simply.
Learn more at heidibarr.com.
