Activity
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Autumn shared a letter in the
Poetry group 2 months agoThe roads we travel
Autumn DavidsonTwo roads diverged ahead of me –
one known and one less traveled.
There’s been a lot of talk about
how one should take the latter.They say to seek the new and strange
is the course that is the wiser,
but both seemed new and strange to me
because I’d never taken either.I traveled for a bit down one
and found much there was gold,
but soon I wondered what glittering things
the other road might hold.Changing course is not a thing
one can often do with ease.
I trudged across through underbrush
in the darkness of the trees.I ran into another path-
who could say where this would go?
But one I went because of course
there’s but one way to know.I’ve done a lot of traveling now
and there’s much that I have learned.
Each path was often weird to walk
and took many curious turns.There are many books that I could fill
with what I don’t know yet.
But what I think is true is that
none knows which path is best.So I say if you’re stuck between two roads
and told that you much choose,
to say p’shaw to others and
do what you want to do. -
Autumn responded to a letter in topic Why Are You Worthy of the Utmost Respect? 3 months ago
I’m so glad it resonated with you. <3 And thank you!
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autumndavidson submitted a contest entry to
Why Are You Worthy of the Utmost Respect? 7 months agoBecause I deserve it
Autumn DavidsonR
E
S
P
E
C
T
Find out what it means to me.
Actually, I’m still finding out, too.
I’ve made friends with bad habits like quitting early and cutting myself short.
I hang around with the idea of starvation, letting my stomach’s gurgling protests fall on ears closed tight, eyes fixed on an image that isn’t my body.
I let my to do lists build and build until they crash over me like a wave and wash me out to sea.
I get overwhelmed so easily these days,
and overstimulation is a constant companion.
I bought special ear plugs so that my daughter’s temper tantrums wouldn’t send me over the edge.
When I put them in, they replace her often jarring noise with tiny whispers that I am a bad mother.
I forget to feed my dog, and I can’t bring myself to put away my laundry.
Baskets of clean and dirty clothes sit in my broom as stalwart reminders that I fail.
I fail a lot.
But sometimes
I finish a poem, and I believe it’s good enough to share.
I let my body tell me what it needs, and I indulge it.
My pile of tasks gets a little smaller, and I let myself feel competent.
Confident.
When my daughter screams, I scream with her, and we crumble into laughter.
She hugs me and my whole being floats.
I’m a good mom.
And I feed the dog, and conquer the laundry.
So if I’m still learning that my body is less like a temple and more like a celebration,
and if I’m still figuring out that imperfect isn’t a slur,
and if I’ve almost realized that good enough really IS,
then I think I’ve also learned that respect is a gift I give myself.Voting is open!
Voting ends September 1, 2024 12:00pm
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Aww I love this. And this line is real for us all: “So if I’m still learning that my body is less like a temple and more like a celebration.”
Life can feel so overwhelming at times, but one day, one step, one moment at a time we got this. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed. <3 Lauren
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Hi there, Autumn. Aiša here. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Reading it was quite the experience. At times, I even recognized some of myself in your stream of consciousness.
Selling my self short? Check.
Letting to-do lists build? Check.Overwhelmed? All the time. Overstimulated? That too.
Do I fail a lot? For sure!
And I…read more-
I’m so glad it resonated with you. <3 And thank you!
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Autumn shared a letter in the
Poetry group 7 months, 1 weeks agoSpring Comes Again
Autumn DavidsonThe last flower on the tree
sits proudly
waits patiently
feels lonely.
The breeze has been growing colder in the nights
And compared to August the sun shines not so warmly, nor so bright.
The flower knows that she will fall when the time is right
for all must make that journey towards the darkness from the light.
‘It’s not so bad’, the flower thought, to think about the end,
for here in life she was alone, as death had every friend.
She’d no complaints as life’d been good, as lives go for a flower.
She’d met some birds, and felt the breeze and sunlight every daytime hour.
She’d miss her tree which had grown so much during her life’s season,
but birds and bees and flowers and trees are all here for a reason.
She’d done the very best she could
To do as very flower should
She’d opened wide, and spread the precious seed inside
to little bees
to make more trees
and she really hoped they would.
Her purpose here upon her tree had come to it’s completion
and in her soul the flower felt the changing of the seasons.
She’d bloomed in spring
and done her thing
and shone bright right through summer.
But Autumn comes every year, and flowers can’t outrun her.
The flower thought it must be hard for Fall to do her part –
to clear away all flowering things to bring in Winter’s dark.
That must be why she does her best to set the trees aglow
with oranges
and yellow-reds
before the pure-white snow.
And though the flower was unafraid, she felt a little sad
and thought it would be nice to have as much time as trees had.
But grateful still the flower felt, for she had done her purpose.
And short and hard though life can be, she felt the whole thing worth it.
If she had a chance to come again the flower thought she might,
she’d bloom again and greet her tree and all the world with such delight.
What a pleasure it had been, she thought, just to be around.
And it was with this happy thought that she floated towards the ground.
But be not sad for our dear flower, for I’ll tell you just the thing:
Once Fall has come and Winter’s done
It will come time yet again for Spring.-
Aww Autumn, This is such a beautiful and creative piece. I love it. I really felt some compassion and connection to the flower, as it could represent different cycles in our lives. Thank you for sharing. <3 Lauren
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Autumn, I loved the personification of the flower. The poem describes it like a person and draws me into a wonderful storyline. Thank you for sharing your work.
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autumndavidson submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter to a stranger who positively impacted your life 10 months, 2 weeks agoYou didn't have to, but you did.
Autumn DavidsonTo the person who came to my rescue:
You saw me: hot hurricane winds heaving past my lips, violent chest, boa constrictor hands contracted around chair handles. You saw me: eyes like waterfalls, eyes like the moon, eyes like a hive of bees.
You saw me with panic wrapped around my shoulders like a cloak and you came.
I felt your hands on mine like life rafts. I heard your voice float to me like a breeze through black smoke. Breathe, breathe, breathe, you said.
I choaked.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. I’m here.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Like this.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, You’re safe.
I watched your chest rise and fall like gentle waves and I let them bring me to shore. My hands slithered to yours and squeezed. Over the sound of my heart crashing through my ears, over the sound of my buzzing brain, I let you teach me how to breathe again.
I had arrived safely through the storm guided by a strange lighthouse and before the salt had washed from my eyes you were gone. The only memory I have of you are your strong, sure hands and the siren’s song that called me home.
I never learned your name, or the color of your eyes, or the reason you came to my rescue.
I never got to thank you.
So thank you.Voting is closed
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autumndavidson submitted a contest entry to
Write a letter or poem to your Body 10 months, 2 weeks agoSupposed to Be
Autumn DavidsonPink lips
Round Hips
that curve tightly around my body
like a winding mountain road
Flesh that
Hugs me
snuglyRosebud nipples
smiling dimples
an unbruised apple bottom
fit to bite
with just enough juice to run down your greedy mouth
and my stomach tightflat, no fat
Wiggle, not jiggle
Breasts full Eyes dull No sleep Still sweet
Like fruit that has taken its first breaths of ripenessI have been allowed to grow and swell
but my body should not tell that tale
The story of a vessel ruined by the act of creation
No
I am still an unfired kiln
I can be made warm, hot, scalding
I am not pottery broken from the inside outAnd is that what I’m supposed to be?
When I have grown too large for my body
When My spirit has crossed over and back again with another soul under its wing
and we both nested in this flesh
Am I still supposed to be small?I don’t know how.
My lips are red and dripping love for this new soul
My hips are round like a harbor
I am the port from which she’ll launch
My kneaded focaccia flesh makes the bread for her table
I have swelled
I have proofed
I have risenFaucet nipples pour the elixir of life
and I have many dimples now
My bottom
My Thighs
the tenders of my arms
are no longer chiseled into the bedrock of my bones
My flesh hangs where it was her hammockAnd I still taste sweet
Like Arizona honey
and a ripe peach
I just also want to taste like permission to be
Freedom to ripen, to split open
to pour my pit into the earth where new life springsI want to hear the sound of applause
when my thighs slap together
And feel the sun’s approval shining on my naked, imperfect stomach
I want to feel the gratitude of creation for dancing to her tune
For joining in the chorus
For being her instrument
I want you to scream ‘encore!’ as I take a bow
I have composed a symphony of life
Chords of flesh and notes of bone
With just these humble handsPraise me
and tell me this is exactly what
I am supposed to be.Voting is closed
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Autumn, You are exactly what you are supposed to be and this piece is exactly what it is supposed to be, as I think many women can relate to it and be inspired by it. Congratulations on the baby. She or he is lucky to have such a strong, thoughtful, and loving mother. Thank you for sharing and thank you for being part of The Unsealed family. <3 Lauren
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