New perspective sorely needed
current one rubbing raw
How can I cope with change
when life fields me no support?
The Hangman leers
his upside-down frown
mocking self- pity
I sense a barrage
of platitudes
headed my way.
(Image my own)
Category: change
Discernment
Absolutes are not to be believed
conditions multifarious, fluctuating
consider the messenger
weigh the message
Have faith in outcomes
unknowable, in resources
within, follow progression
not digression
Wisdom knows the way.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Strategy
Acts of vandalism
are not deserved
Grime of violation
does not wash off
If change is target
then create intrigue
Highlight inequity
demonstrate alternatives
Crash and burn
ineffective as hell.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)
Labour Pains
Pain circumvents our fears
squeezes relentlessly
Still we proceed
withholding complaint
for this is labour –
a trial that harnesses
depth of determination
unfathomable focus
Somewhere along the process
an instantaneous shift
there is wonder to behold
and indescribable bliss
Birth is happening
and they’ll be no going back.
(Art mine)
Another Chapter Closes
House creaks
ferocious
decries starkness
of bare walls
absence of furniture
finality of boxes
stacked and sealed
Sleep eludes me
mind recalling
passages –
his cancer
my fear
twist of fate
that left me housebound
We could not stay here
this place chosen for healing
turned prison
“You’ve been good to us”
I whisper, “Now
you’ll favour someone else”
She grumbles in response
this old house, sharing
my trepidation
of unknowns, change
always precarious
Another groan
and I concur
we grand dams
need extra TLC
but I have faith –
an injection of
new life
will do us both good.
(This is a found poem, excerpted from a post of the same name which appeared on my second blog in July of 2017. Image my own.)
Passive/Aggressive
Urgency and age, well acquainted
Is it Celestine, this draw
or a fateful sense of lacking?
Time ticks a cringeworthy rhythm
insists I pay attention – Fine!
say I, lingering over a defiant tea
Passive is my denial
aggressive is the fear
Tomorrow, I tell myself.
( Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Attitude Wins
If I measure progress
by “used-to’s”
illness and age win
I used to play tennis
speed and muscle
ease of ambition
This place, the nexus
of how life has changed,
teaches me appreciation
Frost in my veins
permanent, warmth
of memories aglow.
(Image my own.
Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson)
Dancing
Wary of ruts –
lies I tell myself
sprouting roots,
impending progress.
Yet, without roots
how am I defined?
Does impermanence
not also leave a stain?
The ground shifts
beneath me
and I dance
imperfectly
inventing a rhythm
that defies ruts,
mocks impermanence
and eludes definition.
(Dancing first appeared here in May, 2018. Image my own.)
Whose Earth Is This?
Whose Earth is this?
ask the trees reaching
to kiss mountainous sky.
Who cares for her?
ask the creatures all,
grateful for her bounty.
Machines rumble
forests fall – a stand
for progress answers none.
(Image my own.)
The Wind and I
Followed the wind –
a child without boundaries –
Experience, especially hardship
clipped those wings
Lost faith in the wind,
pushed against her flow
Till nothing was left of me
fight diminished by final blow
The wind, though, she persisted
picked up my diminished spirit
tossed me in her whimsical way
rekindled the child.
(Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest 