There is no promise
life passes, sometimes trickles
we survive or thrive
love as glue, spirit reigning
heart open – sacred witness.
(Image my own.)
Category: life
Hope for 2021
Mothers Have Regrets
Fancy myself pragmatic
but these cherubic faces
render me nostalgic
Not for the times –
for they were hard –
but for the ideal lost
Speculate on failings
shallow expectations,
pray I did enough.
(Found this old photograph of my two girls.)
Non-heroic
Even heroes lapse
life’s connections tenuous
I set my dial on pleasing
regret failures –
Wish I could shake
this empathetic impulse
Allow others just to be –
focus on accountability for me.
(Image mine)
Pondering Cruelty
Male mallard
once procuring
offspring, abandons
Female, charged with care
becomes a target, often
killed by next mate
I contemplate the orphans
the cruelty rendered
what purpose struggle serves.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
What Legacy?
And when the fatal breath expels
and all is quiet, will you remember me
Bright as an orange bloom
with my words locked inside
A poem inspiring eternity
or will my essence shrivel
Be lost – like dust particles
exposed in afternoon sunbeams?
(Image my own.)
Stalemate
Invisibility is undesirable
I am flesh craving
in a touchless world
A voice yearning
to be heard, a heart
to listen – compassion
growing cold. This side
of the table intolerable
how long will we continue
Till the rage in me ignites
sets your paper walls aflame
and will you even notice?
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge: feature image is prompt.)
No Idea!
Girls are lucky: just need to find the right man –
looked after for life.
Advice from a teenaged brother.
Right! I yell back, fifty years later.
It was all a vacation –
raising the children on my own
looking for God in the midst of chaos
partners with wandering eyes
or absent…always absent…
still waiting for that “looking after”
And how did you make out, Brother Dear?
Oh, that’s right… married
… woman with a good job
willing to let you putter in the background
Guess we were both misled.
(Image my own.)
Familial
History invents theorem
generation repeating
variations on a misery
absent fathers
mothers overwhelmed
heartache welded
into young psyches
till inspiration invites
a new hypothesis.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Down Is Right
Been riding the down elevator too long
a slight detour, I once, long ago, thought
Ambitions set on Penthouses
and upper echelons of success
First, there is a trip I must make
a downward pull insisting –
See, it isn’t true what they say
that we can be whatever we want
It’s time to stop running,
stop chasing empty promises
I’m getting down to roots
causes and influences
history revealing a legacy
here in the depths of self
a final reckoning that bears light
seems I’ve miscalculated directions
I’ve been riding the down elevator
about to alight on revelation.
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge #160. Image my own. Hayes is my maiden name.)
One Woman's Quest 