The Spirit Walks on . . . .: A Book of Poetry

By Joan Flint

Poetry is a form of mindfulness. It is a way of focusing in on the present moment and allowing emotions and passions to find an outlet in the form of the written word. The Spirit Walks On . . . . is a collection of poems that were written over the last two years as I attempted to come to terms with many changes that were occurring in my life during that time. Many of the poems sound sad, but most are trimmed with hope and emphasize both the pain and beauty of the metamorphosis of the soul as it grapples with the surprisingly challenging aspects of everyday life. It is my most sincere hope that this book will resonate with the reader and challenge him or her to live each moment in life with both passion and compassion—to temporarily suspend the activities of the body so that the mind and spirit are free to walk on and explore the depth of feeling that we all have inside of us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546262534

Joan Flint

Joan Flint is an Emergency Physician as well as a farmer and mother of six children living on her family’s ancestral homestead in southern Maine. She grew up in northern Virginia and attended The College of William and Mary for her undergraduate education. She then graduated from the Medical College of Virginia (Virginia Commonwealth University) before going on to specialize in Emergency Medicine. This is her first publication and she continues to write poetry in addition to her work in the ER, farming on her family’s land and raising her children. An author and poet by accident more than by intent, her poetry is a very personal endeavor and draws heavily from her experiences in all of these very different aspects of her life.

Book preview

1

Heartache

It’s a heavy blanket

Smothering

’Til I can’t take it

Anymore

Hope

It’s a distant shoreline

Slipping

Down the steep incline

From my door

Darkness

It’s the cloak of midnight

Hiding

My true heart from light

Evermore

2

Your trumpet sounded with anger

Like daggers your words ripped through me

With broad brushstrokes you painted my heart black and blue

Now I am flushing out the music

Replacing it with silence and solitude

The quiet stillness passes no judgement and throws no stones

I am spitting out the poetry

As I brush my teeth I rid my lips of it

Washing it all unceremoniously down the drain til the water runs clear

I am scrubbing off the paint

The colors run and fade from my hands

Until nothing is left but the muted flesh tones underneath it all

You have taken the art right out of me

After all these years of resistance

It is finally gone

3

I lift my paintbrush to the page

Then gently, oh so gently

Draw the line

Make it fine

Redefine - the empty space

The devil’s in the details

I paint my life upon the canvas

But slowly, oh so slowly

Day by day

Come what may

Sit and stay - the landscape grows

The portrait is unchanged

If only I could paint my dreams

Beautiful, so beautiful

Every care

Colors fair

It’s all there - outside the lines

Free from the page at last!

4

This coat is thick

Larger than I remember

Drab and dull in color

It’s sort of bristly on the edges

But it feels so comfortable

As I wrap it around my back

Pulling it closer again

More like a suit of armor than a coat

I feel like a hermit crab

Carrying it everywhere

If I could ever take it off

You wouldn’t recognize me anymore

But I can at least see it now

As I gaze at my reflection

I wish it didn’t fit me

But I cannot seem to let it go

5

In the beginning there was chaos

I strike the flint

Will it burn this time?

Or will it fizzle out again?

A brilliant flash of gold

In a vast pan of stardust

In the middle lies the emptiness

I wait in the silence

Dare I hope for more?

Or is this the event horizon?

Standing still in time

Racing against infinity

At the end will be enlightenment

I open my eyes

Will I bathe in the light?

Or be condemned to darkness?

Or pick up the flint

And strike it again

6

The dew has blanketed the field like a carpet

and all