LOG 123 By Godric

Godric | Photo By Tommy Coyote

LOG 123
By Godric
Photos By Tommy Coyote
Published Issue 088, April 2021

Gripping the ground

Feet still thawing

Heart warmer than brown

I’ve gone inside

Kept so few around

Spiked a mending mind

With many words

Steady & sound

Oh refuge, growing friend

Lengthening the work

Deepening the pen

May we flair our hems

Struggle before we win

Swaddle after we lend

These whims swim within

Urging & surging

Purging and merging


“Reach! Again!”

Must we?




On this, Life depends!”

…my friend.

Fickle, this porcelain-breasted pickle thicket — twisting & rinsing, me.


Godric | Photo By Tommy Coyote

Became a couch,

Spooling trepidation with darted eyes and needled pace

11 at night, February 17th

I was struck by a car

All things (still) pail aside the terror of even for a few seconds, involuntarily considering death

My tears that night had a heat and separateness, a reaction themselves almost.

Responding to fright so mighty & curdling, they ran, rabid and molten.

Down and down, for hours.

The headlights, understanding what they were

what they’d do next,

all before they did,

To the day, stalks as the premier, explicitly impossible, deafening, immutable slide of the show.

Out a month and ten days now.

Bending into Week 2 of physical therapy for a ripe, fully torn ACL

My spirit’s not the soggy bog it hummed in the beginning.

Having no context for accidents, their trauma, critical,  life-altering injuries or recovery from them.

It’s been school.

A place beloved and one I presume I’ve never left.

Thus, I’ve minded this matter no different

How I’d of ‘survived’ this before gives me pride in the interior work put toward achieving my best self

So when calamity did fog about,

Clarity and a way through was not only abundant, but ready and available.

I don’t judge my mind but, observe to preserve it

and fear, at a point, was so noted during this experience

It’s become central that I quell it

Begin to, somehow.

Feels falsely empowering since it’s never been as active the practice it must be in order to provide;

an all-wheel, adjusted and meant-to-be-here drive.

I’m still picking up things that got lost on the inside that night, giving them new rooms and permission

As my Father gave me.

Thinking I’d tell somebody, so I do.

Easily to,

Where Love is, you will find

Where Love lives, pain flies

So Love still, please try

It’s always there

By and by.

Godric | Photo By Tommy Coyote

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