Carolyn Riker, poet & writer

Love grows us in such bittersweet and needed ways. And sometimes, it isn't healthy to stay. Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker

Sometimes, life can all feel too much. I wrote this piece in 2014 when I was raising two teens. I carried a lot of sadness. It's hard to believe that it was nearly 10 years ago. So, this morning, when I came across this tiny poem, I gave it some extra love. I almost didn't share because I thought maybe it was too sad. And yet, I know how important it is to accept all sides of ourselves without a label. And so, I share with you this tender poem. Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker 💙🙏

This reminder came up in my memories to slow down, and to take care of yourself. Personally, the timing was spot on. Wishing you extra kindness today and as the weekend approaches. Love & respect, Carolyn Riker. ❣

The morning's fog
stretches over the quietness.
It feels like my soul's home.
Dressed in shades of soft gray,
it is peaceful.
The contrast is the
glow of chartreuse moss.
I'll wear it as a scarf.
The fog will be my cloak.
Translucent, as it is opaque.
It sets the pace of this day,
to feel safe, soft, and whole.

Carolyn Riker
Photo source: The Language of Pictures via tumblr

Let’s sit quietly
by the full moon’s mysterious
and sip the swells
of its simpleness.
The glow on a dark, cold night
is a temple
a dwelling
a prayer
to see our
most profound insights.

Carolyn Riker | Artist Todd Young
Written December 5, 2022

Pale moon, pale moon...

The Colors I Hear is like the whorls of a newborn fern. In this book, I expressed my high sensitivity. This is the deepest part of who I am. Words allow me to use all my heightened senses and to express myself. Words give me space to taste the nuances of nature, life, love, friendships, music, and a succulent espresso…. I feel it all. And if you happen to read this book, I dream you will feel the tremble and the lure to create something new. Something specifically from your heart. What moves you? My dream is you'll be the art. You'll share all sides of you.

With much love & respect, Carolyn Riker
Image created by Gold Dragonfly Press

Thank you for being here.

💙

Some ‘goodbyes’ end with such a sharp hurt. And yet, we know, deep inside, it was time. We went along ‘hoping’ things would change. In the end, we changed. We no longer said yes to keep the peace. We said no. We became truer to ourselves. Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker

I've spent the weekend nesting. One tiny project led to another. Groceries were bought. Towels folded. I took a few short walks. The bed linens were changed. Cozy was on repeat. I made dinners and filled 3 little glass containers with the leftovers. Even though it is damp and chilly tonight, I will have gingerbread ice cream. It's a sweet treat. The house plants have been watered. Several remain in the sink. Music has been softly humming. A candle is lit. Round and round, my cat's tiny footprints have reminded me our souls need love. Ask yourself, how do you tuck yourself into the seams of your soul? And do you feel its song? What 'arts' you? What holds you? Let's listen. And one by one, we'll know. This is the way we grow.

Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker
Curious about my writing? The Colors I Hear is available
Featured art by Mary Charles @ marycharlesfolkart/Etsy

When you really listen to someone, you understand that not everything is said in words. 💙

If Safe had a sound, it might be soft rain. If Solitude had a color, it might be misty gray. If Sleep had a motion, it would be a wave. And so I asked my Soul, “If this moment could be savored, one smidge more, how would it be? She answered, “I would sing a solo so tender the rain would dance and the gray of flannel would wrap warmly on a wave far, far out at sea; and I would slip into a solace of deep, deep sleep.” ~ Carolyn Riker ❤

From my 1st book Blue Clouds 2016
Photography by: Antonio Mora

Wow!!! This is totally heart-melting amazing. My poem, The Moon in All Her Ways (The Colors I Hear) has been nominated by Golden Dragonfly Press for a Pushcart Prize!!! Truly honored to be listed with such stellar poets. I'm doing a happy dance!!!!

We are pleased to announce the nominations for the 2023 Pushcart Prize! Our heartfelt congratulations to these remarkable poets for their dedication to the craft. Their passion and talent shine through in every piece they create. 🎉

✨ SHAVAWN M. BERRY
"Dangerous Things"
Evanescent Creature: Poems & Meditations

✨ LISA FOSMO
"Returning"
Mercy Is a Bright Darkness: Selected Poems on Our Connectedness to Each Other through Nature’s Elements and Seasons

✨ HIBA HEBA
"A Speck of Dust on the Glass Pane"
Birth of a Mural: Poems

✨ CAROLINE MELLOR
"We Need to Teach the Children the Old Words"
The Honey in the Bones: Poems to Rewild the Soul

✨ MAUREEN KWIAT MESHENBERG
"To Live Fearlessly"
Love Yourself Fiercely: Through the Beauty and Ache of Life

✨ CAROLYN RIKER
"The Moon in All Her Ways"
The Colors I Hear: Poems & Prose to Inspire Creativity

PLEASE JOIN US IN CONGRATULATING these poets and if you haven’t yet read these contributions, now would be a good time to add them to your list! 🎁

I was trying too hard,
did too much,
and overstretched my time
when I finally stopped
and bowed my head
to the sensibilities
tucked inside of rest.

Intuitively I was led
to the sorcery of
the wiry winds
walloping wildly.
Not exactly a jingle
but a ping-a-ting
and a swoosh of icy pelts
dancing right outside my window.

To my surprise
I started to sway and
my feet followed the flow
while my hands orchestrated
an invisible symphony,
accompanied by those
clear crystal bells.

The real magic
was happening all along
and this smiles me whole,
I became the wind
and one of its poems
because I stopped trying so hard
and let my true self show.

Carolyn Riker | Art by Qistina Khalidah
Written 2022

Follow the flow
of your fundamental flowering
and seek its advice as it pulls you
to the core of your originality.
Ask it directly; what shall I do?
And then listen intently
as the winds weave
their wildness around you.
Let the lack of symmetry,
and your unsteady gait,
propagate a rich new weight,
to sensate your inner fate.
Walk away from what seems easier
and take the plunge to go deeper.
It is not too late despite the dissonant roar
from those who negate.
Climb over the dams that block your way,
then wade, paddle, swim through the channels
and face those formidable forces
with the gold sprinkled at dawn.
As your seasons evolve,
let your flowering find creative
to safely rest, play, rest
inside your perennial pause of originality.

Carolyn Riker, poem from The Colors I Hear
Illustration by Inna Kapystenko

There is too much pressure to be polished, perfect, and creative all the time. Perfect and creative don't belong together. I love spaciousness. Less rules. More freedom. Mismatched PJs. Colorful sticky notes. I like 'playing' with words and ideas and dreams. Like how the morning sun peeks over the rooftops. It reminds me of a child playing hide and seek. You see the tuffs of their hair from behind a chair. And they call out, "Come find me!" Just that wee thought led me straight to my heart. "Come find me!" Let's do it! Let's be creative without the added pressure. Let's take the time to daydream. Let's twirl our thoughts into new geometric shapes. Play. Rise. Be. In full color. In love. In joy. Let's turn the ordinary into a fresh canvas of possibilities. And while we are at it, let's give 'Perfect' a ride in the back seat.

Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker
Check out my new book: The Colors I Hear
Art by Puttalak Dadsada

There are days when the frosted hills and grass speak of silent things. There are moments when all you can do is surrender, close your eyes, and rest. There are times when lists and chores and whatnot need to be tucked away. Because that’s when sunlight sings. That’s when the moon chants. You notice the feral things are alive and well. You become similar and synergized in a solo dance. This is the pause to see what isn’t and to feel what is real. Your innate wisdom answers. Listen. Dream. Create. Love. Oh, my, and love some more.

With much love & respect, Carolyn Riker
The Colors I Hear is available on Amazon and Citrine Design Shop
Featured Artist BYEOL HYUNA

Earlier this morning, a hummingbird came to my backdoor window. It felt like a sweet hello. "Good morning. How are you today?" Which took me down a path of softness. I said, "Hello and good morning," to my wee friend. That's how my day began. Simple, kind, and real. Grateful for autumn and soon to be winter. Thankful for family, friends, and neighbors. And I wish you a day of cozy kindness. Much love & respect, Carolyn

Bloom, my friend. Bloom.

Let me tell you a story. It began when the earth was still holy. Prayers were the wind. Leaves were the tongues that painted the dots and curls and stripes on all living things. Clouds embroidered the scented sky, and the sea spoke the language of blue emeralds.

The earth freely wept when mountains were born and cradled the smallest creatures. Sea storms drank the nectar of ancient trees. Geysers expressed unthwarted passions, and earthquakes let rage shake into her creative needs.

Hairpin curved rivers carved their life learned power and forged russets inside of sandstones. Granite was left frozen in layers upon layers to defend majestic but delicate crystals sensitivities.

Magical is in the landscape of what seems ordinary, but nothing is or how it seems; the surface is often a screen. But behind the scrapes of our skinned mountain’s knees, there’s a crescendo of multiplicity. These are our extraordinary gifts when we let the expansiveness, the volcanos of our soul, express the orchestra of our emotions and the depths of our innate seas. Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker [written 2018 but I really like it, so I thought, why not share it again!!!]

Here's a shout-out to a beautiful book of poetry by Lisa Fosmo. I was honored when asked to write an early review for her book, Mercy Is a Bright Darkness. Her debut book is real, beautiful, natural, and abundant. What a delightful book of poetry published by Golden Dragonfly Press! If you are looking for a new read, this is the one! ❤ 🍂

May your dreams dare to bloom.

So very true.

My hope is when people read my book, it'll feel like a real conversation with a good friend. My second wish is there will be a bit of magic and inspiration born in the reader. And this will lead to their imagination. [excerpt of an interview about my book, The Colors I Hear.]

Somehow, we know.... 🪶

I can't even begin to tell you how good it feels to get book reviews! Here's one from Caroline Mellor, writer & poet of The Honey in the Bones. I'm all kinds of joyful and appreciative!!

I did a little book interview. Here's the link!!!
https://citrinedesignshop.com/blogs/news/book-signing?fbclid=IwAR1UM-lvaABCD8htW5cxBUzK0AJ-7hXgWA4NAaJskE9sRLv1Zhm-D6ZF2kA

Book Signing with local poet Carolyn Riker Carolyn Riker is a local poet, writer, and counselor. Her newest book The Colors I Hear is a collection of poetry and prose that honors and explores nature, aging, sensitivity, and imagination. The Colors I Hear is her fourth book, and has recently been awarded the PenCraft 2023 Seasonal Award for B...

It’s that bewitching hour
where the afternoon still lingers
but the evening is calling
and it’s not quite twilight
but the air tastes magical.
Autumn crunches the blues.

The tree’s shadows stretch across
the still frosty grasses
and the clouds hang
from the orca-colored sky
like pillowcases
pinned to a clothesline.

Time doesn’t tick
it only tocks
and invites me
to heat up the kettle
or to sip, sip, sip
a demitasse of espresso.

The bewitching hour
is most beautiful when I
intentionally savor
its ancient scripture
pulling me quiet,
giving me pause
before time starts
ticking again.

Carolyn Riker | Photographer: Elizabeth Gadd
Written 11/22

This feels really, really good. Thanks to Golden Dragonfly Press!

Congratulations Carolyn💐

The Colors I Hear: Poems & Prose to Inspire Creativity
for

"This book will touch your soul.❤ I'm going to treat this book as if it were an amazing box of chocolates, and savor it a bit at a time. Carolyn Riker is just a wonderful writer!"
— Shannon Carlson ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

"You need to read this book! Your soul will thank you."
— Ingrid Amans ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

"This book is a must-read for anyone who appreciates the beauty of language and the power of the senses to transform our understanding of the world."
— Gary H Boyet ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

: Link in comment
Available in and

It's late autumn, and only two ruby leaves embellish her like lovely dangling earrings. You can see her shape. Round and intricate. She has a thousand arms, and her body is sturdy. What you can't see are her roots. They go for decades and decades drinking the earth's spirits. Fortified with love and hope. There's an invisible circle around her. Hummingbirds rest on her ancient arms. Woodland creatures are welcome. They find her and stand by her, knowing they are safe.

Heartened with understanding. Drenched in wisdom. She knows pain. She's seen hell and knows demons well. She listens gently to people's stories. She's flown with angels. Touched the stars. Sat on the moon. She's embraced her strangeness, comforts her self-doubts, pulls up buckets of worries, and pours them into the river of less shame.

She's felt love, been in love, and betrayed. Her circles are full, enabling her to see not only with her eyes but with something more. Intuition flickers frequently, fielding her information from the subtlest twitch. The eighth note of despair. The grace notes of sweetness. The rapid loud trill of conceit. Trusting those emotions as they dip deep into the sea to the base of her knowing. Down, down, down to the roots of her Lapis cave. The hidden places that know, those flickers are felt fragments of the truth. She's not alone, and yet she is. She's a paradox.

Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker
Photo wee tree from my garden

The tree quivered,
and she watched
the last ochre leaf
spin on a lone branch.
The birch bark was quiet.
The heavens were painted indigo.
Abstract clouds straddled her mind's eye.
By late afternoon,
she had stitched a cocoon
from the fine threads
of a hummingbird's fallen feathers.
She was peaceful and quiet
in an embryotic stage.
A metamorphosis
on the edges of change
and the growth of new wings.

Carolyn Riker | Artwork by Dan-ah Kim
First written in 2014 and kindly edited 11/10/2023
I believe the original piece is in my first book, Blue Clouds.

When a tree speaks get your pen, keyboard, paintbrush, camera, dance shoes ready…. there will be a message for you to translate. This little ditty came through late yesterday afternoon. Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker

Sleep tight & dream far. 💙

Life isn't always easy. We have ailments, difficulties, and questions about life and death. Often, there's a mix of depression, anxiety, despair, and traumas. As much as I am a poet and writer, my other passion is being a clinical mental health therapist. I spend my days working with people.

The pure immensity of pressures and the darkness can really pull one under. Myself included. Here in the Pacific Northwest, on the outskirts of Seattle, the days will turn to night by 4:30 p.m. We will have more rain and then snow. This past weekend, we had a wind and rainstorm. It knocked out the power for nearly a day and stopped me in my footsteps.

The silence was pure and a bit jarring. And so, I share this because my thoughts got darker and quieter. In the past few days, I've noticed how we can't keep giving. We need to care for ourselves. It's so important to fill your bucket. So, I asked myself this morning: What is depleting you? What energies are stealing your joy? Notice your sleep cycles. Are you more restless or sleeping more? Set one tiny goal per day. Here are a few examples: Today, I will have more water. Or, I will focus on my breath. I will eat, or shower, or take a walk. Tomorrow is tomorrow. Today, I will love myself the best I can. Today is a good day to follow my heart and paint the colors I hear. Much love & respect Carolyn Riker

More than usual, I've been super tender. So, I'm extra quiet and contemplative. Let's be kind to ourselves and to each other.

In the creases of today, I hope for a tomorrow. Alone can happen in a packed room. Some can't relate to the sound of death. Others have grown callouses around their heart. And some have the penchant to see shades of bittersweet in the shadows. The shadows are where one finds answers that break and bleed blue. I write to separate the self-doubt from the noise of the norm. I know "what's up" carries the weight of "what's down." This helps me to see golden pearls. The slices of wisdom's truths. I string each one as love. And I offer this gift to you.

Much love & respect, Carolyn Riker
Excerpt from Blue Clouds 2016, edited 11/7/2023
Featured artist: Dee Nickerson