The Artist,
searches the waters of the soul,
revelations to reveal…
Krissy Mosley 2022
Drawings from my Interfaith Journal , 2021-2022
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Writing myself whole, was never about fixing myself . More so, it is about being myself. Nurturing without judgment. Self -acceptance at a deeper level. Not waiting for the world to accept me. In that notion, I now have the courage to accept my past as sacred, like the cocoon of the butterfly.
Photo by Movidagrafica Barcelona on Pexels.com This is the raw material of the journey, the mere process of being carried by the light. Excuse me, let me rephrase, allowing the light to carry me. Like silk is spun in the darkness.
The light was always around me. The light was always willing. Waking me up in the morning. Glaring down on me in the afternoon. It’s just- I’m more receptive to its beams, allowing its rays to engulf the beauty of my dark circles -of Who and what I am to yet become. As the old gospel blares its horn, “walk in the light, the beautiful light shines all around us by day and by night. ”
Nurturing my own darkness is just as important as nurturing the light. One day I woke up with that epiphany that darkness and light must always walk together. Or we wouldn’t have the one without the other.
I can hear my great-Aunt Yula speaking to me in her low-husky 101 age -old- whisper “now “babie, you can’t go off and have sun without the- Good-lord’s-rain, ain’t no sense in thinking, you gonna grow up with God’s good, not the bad times too babie, so just hush-up now ” Crying on my good china. I could’ve set out the paper plates for all that”
I’d just laugh and whimper a little more….
We need the night, just as much as we need light. In the past I wanted to hide from my problems, separate myself from the issues. And when I couldn’t I’d justify why things couldn’t be more wholesome in my life. Believe me, I had a long iron-clad list.
Krissy Mosley When I say I’m better now, I’m on the journey of embracing, gaps in my teeth, my brown skin. And that’s just the surface, working on the inner parts of knowing I’m on the verge of the Great Love Spirit, of all life, all good ,all kind, all miraculous and as much as I hate to admit that means all the hell I’ve gone through, and everything in between.
This is Great-love- Spirit- revelation,
in that the pendulum swings hard in both directions.
And through- it- all, light is still there to carry us.
fire was there, to teach me how I burn,
clean and miraculous down to the bone.
and never forget its’ rage,
That same rage taught me
that love is a rage too,
love hard,
love inch by inch,
down to the bone.Poet Krissy Mosley 2022 -
I guess I have this inner longing for a less complex lifestyle. One where I imagine a tiny-wood cabin, with a cozy fireplace. Surrounded by a beautiful green forest. And there, I share my company with the tiny forest animals whose humble abodes are God’s green earth.
Photo by TomTookIt on Pexels.com As I open the doors of the tiny cabin, I can smell freshly chopped wood. A taste of sunshine in the air. Grounding myself in the crevices of contentment. I hear the songbirds playing their morning tunes. Tweaking, and geek-ing, in the ears of God. Lending my ear to their melody. I can feel a reset happening.
Listening to the symphony of nature all around me. East winds are gentle. Trees rustling, swaying softly. Relinquishing the need to buy the latest this or have the latest that. Putting the world far behind me.Un-wrapping timeless woes and cares over this and over that. I believe this is the place where freedom, does not draw blood from stone. Nor require anything of me.
Breathing in, I step inside God’s love
Breathing out, this is where I reset
Breathing in, my divine appointment is here
Breathing out, I am nourished I am restoredPoet Krissy 2022 -
Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com I will show myself compassion and allow compassion to extend itself to others.
May I feel the power of love surrounding me.
May I feel connected and whole,
May I remember the little things…
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I may not tickle ivory as my elders’
my elders can surely make those ivory keys sing
bending wood between joints of their fingers like strings
strings that belong to God this I’m sure
but in the closet of my soul
I remember my mother’s knees
closely, compacted mahogany-copper
bone replaced with steel, firmly planted to hear the voice of God
washing the rags of her eyes
her eyes on God
keeping her posture on the threshing floors
fleshing out tears as white as snow
I remember the simmering rain, of prayers
with utterances that kept us warm
utterances in key where prayers go
when they are tattered and worn
prayers that give us new names
that we are not who we used to be
and prayers that affirm our higher calling,
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From time to time, the person I no longer -am has come to say goodbye. And it’s okay. I want the old me to know. I see you. Bowed head, shrinking back. Third-degree burn on your right hand. I see you. Oh! How have we grown as the years have gone on.
The scars I was carrying have no weight on who I am now. I won’t dismiss the facts. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs. And the trail of deaths runs deep.
Photo by Raquel Su00edlva on Pexels.com I have come back to take you by the hand, to lead you into a glorious departure. I’m better now, as are you. The little girl in me is cheering, every scar, every wounded hole, every dark night of the soul, We are the answered prayers of treacherous nights. We are the songs of holy grail, that’s right!
it’s’ time you know,
I whispered you into that holy-goodnight,
I smiled at you, at thought of your transmission,
I played this verse in your remembrance,
a sway of nod, impermenament,
There’s a new story to hum,
off key needs a bit of tuning though,
I have a good-good feeling, doe!
in gitty-pockets like butterflies
take the wings of the morning,
I realize I am life’s unpretentious dance,
an ocean-breath on a life-time of chance
churning fragile into fragrant, woody resinous
drink from my own homemade cistern,
eternal resilient- taverns of waters,
are always flowing, always leading
me home.
Poetry Krissy Mosley 2022 -
Photo by Jacub Gomez on Pexels.com This time last year, I was dealing with so much loss. Life was slowly eating away at me. I told myself if I was to survive, I would need to make mental- changes. For me, that’s getting back to the basics. And dragging my kids along for the ride. Hoping they’d be better too.
There’s still much work to be done. A few days ago, I was sitting in a meditative state. When I heard a whisper “there’s nothing eating you.” As I opened my eyes, I looked around, no one’s in the room. That’s when I knew the changes I’m making are bringing in this new way of being. As I let go of old habits, becoming more aware of unwanted cycles. Embracing what is, the things I can’t change. Releasing old ideas that no longer serve me. I give myself permission to relax, I give myself permission, that it’s okay to feel everything, and it’s okay to let everything be as it is. As I now, let go. I give myself permission to let the light carry me.
Some things are changing…
All of my past eczema, itchiness has cleared up. I’m not as restless as I used to be, my A -personality type can finally relax. Woo-sah!
Here’s My list of six things that’s working for me:
* keeping an email journal by writing an email to me (no more excuses of not keeping a journal)
* pause before each next thing taking three to five breaths in the car, in the kitchen, etc.
* playing the old inspirational- spirituals brought my soul back from a dark place
* stay on a clean eating path – for me no sugar, no coffee, no junk,
* family time, and time for myself – that includes healing movements
* And trading in my yelling for a few Woo-sah, throughout the day (parents’ you understand)
Taking in that first catch of rays on the rise.
A glimpse of gratitude of surprise,
Yes it’s true!
my eyes, behold such a splendor,
entire skies, kiss night away
a drink of drinks’ bluish -of holy taste.
A bow to my head to honor this day,
lifting the moral burdens of those –
suffering, I pray.
may it be so, a life so full,
pouring out its’ own release
may it be so,
rolling- waves of miracles to those in need
warm arms of comfort,
fields of love and safety
surround us all
may it be so,
may it be so,
Poet Krissy Mosley -
Photo by RF._.studio on Pexels.com After 30 days of writing poetry. I feel strong. I feel like I could take the bull by its’ horns. I’d never do that of course! Although, putting words down on the page might be something I can once again, just suck -it -up -and -do. I mean, there are times I’ve made excuses for not coming- here, to the page. Times where you just have to put a pin in it. Come back and try another day.
For the first time, in quite a few years, I’ve had a 30 day streak on word-press. Mentally I think, I’m in a better place to write. As I make several attempts to get outside my head. Which many of my poems are about. It’s’ the darndest thing, all that crying, weeping, and leakage that came to sit with me. I tell you I had no idea, I hadn’t unboxed those boxes. All of those tears saved my life.
As I look back, and move forward all in one fell swoop,
The challenges between writing and the kids is really the writing part….
Some things you didn’t know behind the scenes, yesterday, I also celebrated my 100th day of eating clean to the best of my ability. I’m on the journey to better health. So these last hundred days , of no chips, no coffee, no pounds of sugar added anywhere. And what do you know? I feel better. My sugar cravings are at an all time low. Even as my kids passed around chocolate cake. I didn’t ask how it was. Even to live off of their taste-buds and get that sugar-whiff -high. Whew! Right then and there, I walked out of the kitchen, like a 7 foot tall amazon- beauty.
Yes! Here’s to another milestone. Coupled with eating right, I put in the work of exercising 10-30 minutes each morning, even with all that poetry, and more poetry, I got up and kicked my own butt, no gym membership I’m done with being robbed. I never made those meetings. However this time, 100 days eating clean, to the best of my ability, 100 days of exercise that’s including 2 rest days each weekend.
Along with my regular appointed schedule of working for my home -church, kids activities, checking on my neighbors, family and friends. At the end of the day I would be so tired. Writing poems at the crack of dawn, writing poems on lunch hour – unable to post until 8 or 9pm. Writing poems in the car, poems in the garden, poems during thunderstorms -lights flickering.
Oh that’s not to say, I didn’t have my moments, like take the day off. Been there, done that! Returned too many T- shirts! I had to sing my way out of that funky-feeling. Write my way out of my own blues. Lean into moments of quietness, and tune into-silence. And there would be my poem of day ,
chirping softly on the windowsill,
lightly tapping on my coat strings
sweeping beats of tranquility
a deeper essence to know quietness
understand the low-less-hum,
feel in the moment,
I’m breathing in,
I put aside my restlessness,
breathing out, this is the prayer, I pray.
breathing in , I crave this path of peace,
breathing out, this is all I must do,
breathing in, this is all I must do.
and breathe,
and breathe,
Poet Krissy Mosley 2022 -
Photo by Sourav Mishra on Pexels.com My deepest desire, to sit inside
a single teardrop, to know the deepest thing from tears
manna from heaven, to fall inside,
witness the chime and bell. A tall tale of woes,
mewling, cooing, bursting little things
have you ever cried over a box of chocolates
have you ever put your best foot forward,
have you ever had a silent scream,
ball up inside fetus position,
returned -incarnations,- it be-
rain from my own soul, nana’s scent,
mascara running, leading a midnight of
stars, tangent pearls of rivers streaming
right in my own front yard. And just when you thought
you were finished, an army of one, made you surrender, wave the
white flag, shimmed you- upside down, say its’ name,
I’m crying, and I’m proud.
Poet Krissy Mosley
Poet Krissy Mosley 2022 -
Photo by Wesley Carvalho on Pexels.com In its’ most gentle power
are smiles like flowers
they’ll open -soft petals to you
hinty whiffs of lavender and dandelions
to pick them clean off the bone
relax the creaks of muscles
stiff and achy joints
relieve the croaky moans
sending signals across the body-verse
sigh of great relief, like a raisin born in the sun
shushing, quietly into borders
shushing away, worries of the day
so if you should sit a tiny bit,
and feel its gentle power,
I pray, your smile will contain,
a glow of beauty for the soul,
a gleaming light of peace
luminous and grand,
morning in the heart,
until nothing can resist
this garden of smiles
I pray.😊
Poet Krissy Mosley 2022 -
Poet Krissy Mosley
Krissy Mosley Ministries 