Falling In Love With Healing
Poem by, Hillary Angela Belk, 2021
Laying there tired and pensive,
I look up and think about the life I once had.
The movements before this or that,
Noticing there has been no more aristocrat.
All the many times I carried that handle around, making bloody marys out of my mind, body and far from being sound.
I have been blessed with a memory that helps me to remember,
Allowing for continued instances leading back to center.
The hard times are not like they use to be,
All messed up and we all know my nickname was Shwillary.
Feeling lighter and more present with each passing day,
Where all these feelings tend to take me towards less dismay.
A shift in thinking began to open up to me.
Consistently helping to broaden my horizons and create resiliency.
From there I remembered my relationship to energy,
And this feeling continues to move through me overtime oh so tenderly.
Where space and time collide creating more meaning and understanding,
A feeling of knowing allows for a soft-landing.
A fall for you, open-hearted ready to fully expand, it has been the greatest gift to walk next to you hand in hand.
Great Heights
Poem by Hillary Angela Belk
January 5, 2013
On the edge, I look between my hands, peering deeply into this exquisite view. The tingling starts in my legs and slowly surges through my body. Everything is wide open and a gust of wind pushes against my face. Gently I close my eyes and a sensitive smile enters my lips. That moment in time is unlike anything I have ever experienced. Quiet solace overwhelms my senses. Enriched by the beauty of what lies before my eyes.I see the moisture billowing in the trees, feeling the embrace of the air all around me. I can taste the morning dew. Hear the breeze and the rustling leaves. Underneath my hands is tangible earth. I am not afraid, so high up, scoping out what is looking back in my direction. There is an interconnected satisfaction. These thoughts shock all of my senses at the same interval of time. Making it impossible to forget this instance.
Swallow
Poem by Hillary Angela Belk, 2004
I take a sip my blood starts to burn,
Then the next after that my stomach starts to churn.
I love the taste and have since I was young,
Sensing that there was nothing else except what was touching my tongue.
Being able to distinguish my likes and then my passions.
Creating a world that leaves me back-lashing.
A will than can offer a way if you want,
Though do you listen as it is repeated in a bold-face font?
Saying is different then the actions you shall take,
Dancing upon this decision is not a piece of cake.
