Chronic this pain
finite the energy
fuels each day
Ability to wonder,
marvel at nature –
without limits
Thoughts, like leaves
break away, swirl
float on the wind –
I am at one
with possibility
free to create
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Postcard happiness –
not a thing –
life is fluid
textured
mystery
Revel in each breath
each pain
the strength
of Spirit guiding.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Ingredients for despair –
illness, COVID, loss –
all meted…
Never did follow recipes
I see only openings
potential for enrichment
how the lens has power
to ruminate or celebrate
(Art my own)
Remember youth?
Life an adventure
heart full of dreams
Responsibility made us quartz
working machines, focus
on destination – life as goal
In the gloaming, time blurs
nostalgia and regret dance with
perspective – the irony of it all.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
This year the plague came
and I blamed the wind
for carrying destruction
and I blamed the sun
for its ineptitude
and the rain,
no friend of mine,
only served to drown
my expectations.
Lockdown
and social distance
masks and antiseptics
how was a soul
to survive?
Pushing 2020
out the door
certain relief
would follow
but change is not
a date on the calendar
a release of circumstance
I turned inward
faced the gloom
and found a spark
forgave the weather
the virus, the news
In 2021, I woke up…
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: I woke up in 2021… Image my ow
Pythagorus surmised
a theorem of patterns
defining life’s mysteries
Despite my abhorrence
for numbers, I concur that
there is order to the unknown
Guided by compassion
I walk that intrepid riddle
seek the enlightened path.
( Image my own.)
Remaining silhouette
of a leader –
hero was expected –
instead, hit with quirkiness
Unaffected by indifference
accepting his alibis
his ego bloodies
we remain strangers
Ride along
as hive buzzes lies
he sulks at refusals
commands attention
Reputation shredded
still holds appeal
gobsmacked intelligence –
and so it goes on.
(Image my own.)
Two mothers were we
frozen in disbelief
as smoke rose
Cried for the losses
for our children
for a future devoid
of peace
Two mothers
hand-in-hand
shattered
A Christian
and a Muslim
War destroys all dreams.
(Image my own.)
Cynical of authority –
a dubious task force –
Democracy’s fairytale
under siege
Stalking wealth
expending the vulnerable
This class of clowns
is COVID revealed.
(Image mine.)
Perusing the hardware store
(shops are limited these days)
nothing to tantalize the imagination
still, I browse, searching for normalcy.
Death loiters in aisle 9
taunts me with visions of life
once vibrant, now stolen
leers at me and I bolt
Grocery store holds more allure
ingredients to stir the appetite
the phantom stalks here too
leaves fingerprints on tin cans
The coffee shop has drinks to go
but the spectre follows, leers
schoolboy smug – I’m not sure
whether to laugh or cry
Unamused by the implications
and yet somehow reassured –
the humour doesn’t escape me –
warped this new norm.
One Woman's Quest 