Transformation

As light in darkness
transforms mundanity, so
too am I salvaged –
revelation turning back
the icy pallor of Winter.

(Tanka borrowed from a previous post on One Woman’s Quest II:  Resetting the Dial.  I have given the poem a title here.  Image from personal collection.)

Blowing Off The Dust

Flagrant this disregard,
this blatant indifference

I have come before you
broken and desperate

and been received with
loving compassion, openness.

“It was not I who abandoned you” –
the words still echo in my heart.

In shame, I hang head, vow
to prepare my spiritual bowl

to resurrect a prayerful practice
to know once again the light,

the life that fulfills when
self is offered up as instrument.

(Ragtag community has offered the word “flagrant” as prompt today.  I have been carrying around scraps of ideas for Reena’s Exploration challenge – featured image.  This poem emerged.  I do not consider myself affiliated with a specific religious body, but I do consider myself a woman of deep spiritual faith.)

Underestimated

Novice, a word that negates
experience, knowledge, merit –
capability under suspicion.

I novice myself frequently,
as if vulnerability is a sideline
and humility commands denigration.

A tired and weary state –
yes, this is me, new and willing
to learn, but I am not novice.

So before you judge, adjust
your professional spectacles,
snub my potential, hear this:

Value is immeasurable –
unique contributions
enhance collective offerings.

(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is based on “The Story of An Hour” which challenges us to examine our life and limitations.  I dream over and over again that I have returned to teaching only to find that the years I have put in have been negated by my absence and I have to begin again.  Starting over is not a new theme in my life, but my attitude about is finally changing, as represented in the poem.  Image from personal collection.)

Travelling Solo

Chill and fog
cloud my senses –
effective distraction
loneliness holds no sway.

Others speed past,
while I advance,
slow, steady –
drawn by an unknown

Presence, who may
or may not receive me well
at this road’s end
I cannot tell.

Pray indifference
does not await me –
have suffered enough
no stomach for more.

Must stop a moment
and rest…darkness
brings its own brand
of cold… I am weary.

Tomorrow,
I’ll begin anew,
perhaps not so alone,

But loved ones
are preoccupied
others long gone

So the task remains
mine singularly
to further this journey

With faith to carry me
and a prayer for clear
passage to see me through.

(Image from personal collection.)