Sunday, February 12, 2017

                                                              Photo by Ingrid Mathews


To swim the flame
You must believe
Shed your earthly skin
In faith to the mother of all
Knowledge
Dive to the depths of excruciating
Revelation
And float
Like you’ve never doubted








Sara Mathews     February 2017

Photography by Ingrid Mathews

Sunday, February 5, 2017



He did not look like death
His eyes were much too kind
His voice too light
Compassion in his soul
The morning did not feel like death
The sun too strong
And bright with promises
No shroud of mist hung round the door
No fog
Despairing us with hopelessness
Instead
A gentle breeze
Played with the leaves
A joyful bird
Sang pretty tune
And time chose not to stop
The way I thought it might
And when he came into the room
No gloom licked at the corners
No somber forces elbowed in
Just golden shafts across the floor
And dust motes sparked
As tears fell quietly
In prism drops



Sara Mathews     February 2017
For Charlie

Monday, January 23, 2017

                                                                 Photo by Ingrid Mathews


I cried one solitary teardrop
Like a cloud
It gathered all my hopes and fears
In unshed tears
And delicate as it was
It carried the weight of the world
And as it traced it’s way
My face became the story
It scrolled my cheek with songs
Of victory
Regrets
And Joyous memory
I caught it carefully
And cradled it within my hands
I sought my visage
In the rainbow bands
And then the tear transformed
Into a crystal ball
Revealing days ahead
And past
Daughters
Mothers
Grandmothers
Greats
All the similar triumphs
All the same mistakes
We were an army in a prism orb
I knew my mission then
I held the future of my children
Of us all
Within this tear
I walked my offering to the sea
My salt of sorrow
My vigilance of tomorrow
I slipped our teardrop
To his care
And prayed
Arms wide
He caught us on a rising tide!




Sara Mathews     January 2017

Photography by Ingrid Mathews

Thursday, January 12, 2017



What’s the Phoebe doing here
In coldest cold
And barest bones of year
A sentinel on skeleton of
Boughs that crack the brittle air
And where’s his little mate
He calls for so beseechingly
Has he remained to look for her
Phoe-be
The depth of winter swallowing his plea
Phoe-be
Phoe-be
His two note song deep frozen there
Wrapped in winter’s will
No other music to be heard
But one lone bird
We wait together
He and I
All but in vain
No answer comes
No sweet reply
No love to keep him warm
And Spring too far away




Sara Mathews     January 2017

Sunday, January 8, 2017




It’s as though it means something
This gentle snow
The wide eyed flakes
So quiet in descent
Gaining ground
Gathering soundless
Heartbeats
Like separate letters falling
The lacy thoughts collecting
Sifting memories
Softly
Softly
They pound like hooves
Upon the stillness




Sara Mathews     January 2017

Thursday, December 1, 2016


The sun shouldered his way through the crowds
Quite forcefully
As though he were bringing me an urgent message
And hot as a brand he shone upon my mind
My morning
Transforming my ideas
Clearing hazy introspection
Be aware
Be aware
And then as quickly he was gone
Drifting back under throng of deliberate cloud
But it was enough
An almost personal appearance
A calling from aloft
To make something of this day





Sara Mathews     December 2016

Tuesday, November 22, 2016



This is my morning
My grey beginning
My heavy shawl of rain
My teardrops etching sadness
Down the pane
My heartbreak
Weighing heavy on the leaves
My birds in quiet kinship
As we grieve




Sara Mathews     November 2016