One Woman's Quest

Monday Mood: rapt

Day three of rain. Feeling motivated to curl up with a blanket and heating pad and lose myself in a good book.

Lucinda Riley’s, The Seven Sisters, currently has me rapt.

Colourless Expressions

Consciousness commands
a shift of focus
tired of the clash of colours
stimulation overload
my muse is leaning towards
the nuance of black and white

A study of shadows
and shading
and how light
arouses the soul

Speak to me in subtleties
she whispers
in tones suggestive
of hidden depths
I am listening

And so I submerge myself
clear the palette of vibrant hues
and take up the lowly pencil
seek the promise
in a colourless world.

(Art my own)

From Garden to Table

Hubby says it is the best dish I have ever made. So tasty! The secret? Keep it simple and let the flavours of the garden speak for themselves.

Monday Mood: watchful

Feeling like this cat in the long grass – unable to see what’s ahead and patiently (or impatiently) watching for a sign.

Tasks are lined up this morning to prepare for another house showing, and then the wait.

And so it goes.

Aftershock

Emotional economy
in state of collapse

What fallacy is this;
what trigger shook me?

Horror-filled insomnia
possesses my psyche

It’s been 50 year since the fall –
why process now?

(Image my own)

Communication Breakdown (tanka)

Looking for Perspective

We are definitely in the throes of transition – the house is for sale, we can’t commit to a rental unit until we have a closing date, and so, everything is uncertainty at the moment.

We clutch at hopeful signs only to be disappointed. The couple who spent over an hour during the Open House have now decided to wait a year before moving. The man who showed so much interest was met with resistance from his wife.

Ups and downs.

I try to remember to breathe and be open to the process.

There is peace to be had, but only if I make room for it.

Sigh.

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.