The Moment is Now

Evening light casts a hopeful glow
A gentle summer breeze harmonizes
shadows fascinate, stretching into mystery

My breathing, shallow, betrays the mood
Uncertainty an unforgiving foe –
soul whispers a prayer of longing

A swarm of winged insects dance
 where walnut branches part

undaunted by ensuing dark

My wings, folded in doubt’s wake,
weigh heavily on anticipation –
a learned habit of mine

Sun lingers in this season
of emerald charm, and I am reminded
that time evokes change, and I too

Am but a part of nature’s cycle
and what worry robs me of now
will not find its rhythm in Winter’s chill.

(Image my own)

Monday Mood: cautious

… or maybe the word is precarious.

The ‘for sale’ sign went up on the house Thursday. The ad online activated Friday afternoon. We’d already had a viewing scheduled before the listing went live.

In the meantime, we’ve been scrambling to pack up the excess and make this house presentable. It’s more work than remembered and we are both exhausted.

Another showing tomorrow, video-taping on Thursday, and an Open House on Saturday, and I’m afraid to admit that I feel a cold hovering.

So, yes, I’m feeling cautiously optimistic, and aware of the precariousness of my physical health.

Might need that ladder.

Three Gifts

The decision has been made – it is time for us to move on to the next stage of life.

The house will be sold and we shall look for a smaller, rental apartment. It hasn’t been easy coming to this conclusion, and it won’t be easy making the transition, but excitement is part of the equation.

We will be moving back to the city, closer to family, and doctors, and all conveniences.

Now the purge and pack begins.

Acceptance, wisdom, and openness are at my side: three gifts to guide me.

The Lie

I lied.

The initial seed of disappointment has fermented,
and in the absence of confrontation, grown roots

written sorrowful chapters
conclusion: unworthiness

Why couldn’t I just have said:
I don’t understand
this makes me unhappy?

Where did I learn that prevarication protects
that I alone am responsible for emotions
that I do not matter?

Decades later
I still cannot uproot the weed.
The lie remains.

(Image my own)