Upgrading –
setting new standards
learning anew
Kin/ heritage
pursues me –
influence
and legacy
Timid concerning
the unspoken
the understated
Seduction courts
a response –
I am flush with possibility
basking in attention
But God is calling me home –
reminds me of mortality
humbles me in situ
I am already engaged
passion in the moment
dalliances redundant
(Self portrait created blind with acrylic paint and palette knife)
Love’s waters rise
defy the impossibility
of our sedentary walls
tides and emotions
like sculptors
reshaping the contours
of opposition, softening
the places where hearts meet.
(Image my own)
She’s papering the walls
pondering former rooms
unmarked by her presence
Patterns alternate,
she thinks
then prays
will harmonize
She doesn’t need much –
a forever mantra  —
a bed, a chair for reading…
Contentment, she tells herself,
the sufficiency of simplicity –
A side table, a lamp
a few drawers
Â
A well-practiced diminishment
When did invisibility become her norm?
Sewing herself into the fabric of life
Always adapting to the flow
A stab of anger, or is it sorrow
These four walls her final stop
If she is to make a statement
raise her voice against conformity
the time is now
A slash of red, she decides
will rattle the monotony
render her relevant
At least this once.
(Sketch my own)
Silently, I follow
novice heart absent
Who can maneuver
the breathless streams
attempt a spiritual viewpoint
while continuously overwhelmed?
Urgently in need of a breakthrough
I am done, outdated
Summer’s passage conceded
this soul requires triage
An experience of caring
that does not resemble a demand for more.
(Image my own)
Sloth-like she shuffles
each stride an argument
against unwilling muscles,
ignores spasms, lips pursed
in concentration, advances
Cockeyed he totters,
step…hop…step, poker-hot
stabs punctuating his effort
moves swiftly as if to out run
pain, face set in determination
They are out of sync, oddball
awkward sightseers, obstacles
for the fast-moving able-bodies
that whir past unable to fathom
motivation in crooked spines.
The race here is against time,
propelled by insatiable thirst,
they forage for snippets worthy
of hoarding, squirrels readying
for winter’s harsh call, days
when minds still alert will hunger
despite bodies inert, they will
dine on memory, boast about
the daring, reminisce fondly
over adventures hard won.
(A portrait of aging, first published in 2017. Image my own)
Give me a map
and I will trace the lines
of where I have been
A timeline
will communicate
my raison d’être
Report cards
demonstrate the depth
of my conformity
Lines on my face
a testament
to personal efforts
Good girls colour in the lines
and I am no different
waxing orange and green
Wishing to create contours
differentiate self
from the compliance
Essence is fluid
and lines flimsy
and substance seeks
exposure and celebration
And try as I might
the orange of my soul
bleeds into blank spaces
and green of my nature
reaches across divisions
and I shall not succumb
to prescribed limits
and I invite you to do the same
colour with me outside the lines.
(Art my own)
Disregard the obvious –
I know how time has marred me
Disregard the glare –
eyes clouded with cynicism
A fledgling heart beats
within this disheveled nest
Come closer and behold
a childlike yearning for love.
(Come Closer first appeared September, 2022. Image my own)
Thank you so much to Navigating the Change for offering the opportunity. Warning, this article deals with end of life, medical assistance in dying (MAID)
Commit doubting
Unaware of agendas,
inferiority driven
tainted by dependency
Seeking familiarity –
anxiety in togetherness –
a stranger to pridefulness
Shouldn’t love be comfortable
at least, at the outset?
I am spontaneous,
I tell myself,
rely on Fate’s presence
no need to discern
Might as well send out an invite:
This heart is unlocked;
abuse welcome here!
(Image my creation)
One Woman's Quest 