Lead Me To Life! 

Lead Me To Life!
Two nebulous,
immeasurable chasms
lay before me.
by the shouts
and whispers
of others.
to quiet
the outside clamor.
My inner voice
is tangled
within the static.
Straining to
distinguish the two.
Looking down
from the edge of the cliff.
Vertigo engulfs me.
The abyss
is filled with
razor sharp,
jagged edges.
The other side
is so obscure.
Thick fog.
A mystical mirage.
Particles of time
Each fallen grain
thundering across my soul.
Quaking my entire being.
Anxiety. Anguish.
morphing into Dragons.
Living. Breathing.
Taking residence.
Complete possession.
Terrain crumbling,
beneath my feet.
Only traces of dust remain.
I shudder.
Staggering on the tightrope.
Pivoting on tip toes.
My hand quivers
as I attempt to draw a line
in the collapsing sand.
for an epiphany.
20/20 Foresight.
I’m blinded.
Close my eyes.
wings or a net.
through the darkness.
the shaft of illumination.
Take my hand
and show me the way.
Lead me to Life!
Living. Breathing. Loving.
Nancy L. Baskin Michlin
February 25-26, 2015
Poem #393


I will never forget the anxiety and fear I felt this night three years ago. It was the night before my first mastectomy. I said to my husband Chris, in the protection of his arms lovingly wrapped around me, crying on his chest, “I don’t want to do this.” I inhaled and sighed with all the resolve I could muster, “But you know I will.”

I cannot begin to tell you what I felt that night. I was scared, grabbing onto my breasts, holding on to them as tightly as I could, knowing the left one had to go. I wanted to run away and hide on a warm, beautiful island. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the warm, ocean air caressing my skin. Upon opening my eyes, that same air chilled me to my bones. I knew as far as I could run, the stalker, the beast would still be on my heels. I knew I would do whatever it took to get, and stay, cancer-free.

Three years later, HERE I AM!! That night, I had no idea what was to come or who I’d be today! Stronger, healthier, and better than ever before!! Nancy Version 2.0!! There is abundant sunshine on the other side of the mountain!

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin, M.Ed., C.H.C.

2012-02-10 & 04-14 Goodbye Girls! v3

2012-06-15 Yes, They're Fake!

My Birthday Musings

My husband has pointed out to me, what I’ll call, The Perils of Math. While most people would think that as I turn 49 today, I am beginning the last year of my 40s, ramping up upon my fifth decade. Almost ten years ago, on my 40th birthday, my dear, sweet husband realized that on that day, I was actually entering my fifth decade, not my fourth. Lovely, right? Just what someone wants to hear as she celebrates her 40th!

With that thought, I realize that today actually marks the completion of 49 years, and tomorrow will be the first day of my 50s. Darn math!

The other day at the gym, first thing in the morning, the elliptical machine started poking fun at me. It asked me my age…then my weight. I mean really! I may see these machines multiple times a week, but we are not even on a first name basis! Yet they still have the gall to ask such personal questions! And their memory is awful! They ask me BOTH questions EVERY TIME I’M THERE!

As I complete my 49th year (thank you for the math correction, Chris ), I am in wonder of it all! Time flies by. It is an illusion. In my mind’s eye, 49 is still way off in the distance, only to be seen with a telescope — not drug store readers!!

When Chris corrected my math nine years ago, I had no idea what my 40s would bring. No crystal ball to see what was written on the pages yet to be turned. I look I back at who I was then, the road I’ve walked and the mountain I’ve scaled, and look into the eyes of who I am now. I am filled with such great joy and gratitude. Nancy Version 2.0! I’m happier, healthier, stronger, and wiser than I’ve ever been!

Bring on the the 50s! Take THAT, you elliptical machines! I don’t care whose math is used, what year I’m in, how we slice it or dice it, I’m just thrilled to be here to celebrate my birthday and EVERY day that follows!

The Waiting Room


Keep thoughts clear.
Choose my own loop.
Laser point focused,
as the sun
through a magnifying glass.

Abandon any thoughts
outside of my circle.
Fold them up,
and send the away,
as a paper airplane.
Do not let them
my Belief Bubble.
If the music
in my head skips,
move the needle.
Harness runaway thoughts.
Tether rumination.

I am safe.
I am clean.
The home I inhabit
has perfect feng shui.

*One tear
was an escapee.*



Emotions pinging.
Ricocheting like lottery balls.
Each scrimmage depletes
more energy than
the most intense workout.

Struggling to decode
the enemy’s war plans.
My home is the battlefield.
A Purple Heart
slashed across my chest.
Striving to eavesdrop
on the frontline.
No ambushes tolerated.
Targeting for total annihilation.

Tears on the edge.
Contained all day.
Wheels to road.
Alone in my cocoon.
Tears splash.
Spontaneous release.
All is pure again.

Nancy L. Baskin Michlin
February 5-6, 2015
Poem # 392