My shoulders hold mountains

​My shoulders hold mountains.
Steep inclines of work,
valleys full of kneecaps.

Prayers for a change in terrain,
for sudden summits,
and invisible darkness.

Answered only by the journey home.
No other way out.

---

http://www.edfairburn.com/
“Denver Southbound” by Ed Fairburn

---

About this poem:

Two elbows dig and drag oil against the ridgeline of my shoulder blades. I’ve started a new trail and part way through, I find unwelcome layers of dirt have formed on my shoulders.

• I re-engage with my politics. Neverending helplessness, frustration, sadness and anger with the world ensues.
  
• I integrate exercise focused solely on reducing my anxiety and still wind up hating my body.
  
• I choose a new life, bringing the judgement that comes with reinvention.
  

I want life to be easier and more loving - for everyone, immediately. I want to literally change my physical body in an instant, I want to be successful right now.

My anxiety and impatience pray for the easy way out of the overwhelm: Someone please just flatten the mountain’s peak of patriotic hate, please bore tunnels through my programmed self-hate, please rework this land of failure into instant success.

It is too much. When I reach this point of overthinking and desperation, it is time to breathe deeply and recenter.

I remember that the only meaningful way to grow is to keep going through the challenge.

Overwhelm will happen again and this poem is a reminder to my future self that I’ve gotten through before and in fact I know exactly how to get through again.

​

As a photographer I am deeply rewarded by birthing my images into a physical print. I was once intimidated by the thought of my ink on the wall. Yet, experiencing my creation physically, outside of my mind and off my screen is an unbeatable high. And when my images resonate with someone - it is the sweetest satisfaction.

This is the first poem I’ve ever written, I’m not even sure how or why it materialized - especially since it arrived as I was getting a much needed massage. I definitely don’t consider myself a poet, I’m excited to explore a new form and I’m also insecure in sharing so publicly.

So, let me explain myself even more, mostly to reduce my insecurities: this is about endurance, patience and self-love during the rocky climb of forging a passionate life that leaves an impact.


Sherry J. Ezhuthachan
sherryje.com