poetry – Page 33 – One Woman's Quest

Forgiveness

Resting, I pray for peace
but it is temporary
guilt intervenes

What if I withdraw
commit to solitude
keep my tongue?

I need angel guidance
this mothering heart
infectious, requires wisdom

My past is soiled
I am stinking, tainted
Can forgiveness help?

Pick me up,
give me strength
I am lacking courage

Teach me moderation
modesty to guide my words
I only want to help…

But this vile thirst
this self-deprecation
reigns me in

What value have I
in a world stricken by need
my offering mere morsels?

I pray for peace
I pray for grace
Forgiveness offers a hand.

(Image my own).

December

Moody, these December skies
brooding chill interrupted
by sun’s sudden emergence

To hibernate, or brace
the wind; stiffen protectively
or inhale invigoration

Caution guides my steps
intimate with wintry passages
acknowledging that I am December…

(Image my own)

Sinking

Ignore the dead
the ocean of grief
capsizing humanity

Keep bailing on reality
conspiracy lacks an oar
we drown without compassion

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)

In The Moment

Euphoric, wrapped
in silent aftermath,
love’s vibration
still aglow

Push aside
the fear
the effort
it took
to get here

Bask in the moment –
tomorrow, I’ll cry.

(In The Moment first appeared here in December, 2019. Image my own.)

Winged

Heron’s wings span six-feet wide
great grey appendages in rhythmic flight

Dragonfly wings are camouflaged,
propel elongated bodies who hover in sight

Monarch’s wings are stained-glass delicate
with each flutter, sprinkle fantasies of delight

My wings, imaginary, give me faith and hope
mechanisms of spirituality, my soul’s fire ignite.

(Image mine)

If

If we could see the soul
comprehend the construct
outline each contour
sip the sacredness –
Would there then be peace?

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)

Of Light

There is light in unknowns –
at least I project it there –
caught between the current
ashen landscape and the achings
of a solitary childhood…

I like to think faith guides me
but she is muted like the gardens
of my dreams, more ethereal
than palpable and I need concrete
have waited too long for that train

of certainty to carry me away…
course it never comes, there is no easy
just a slow, steady plodding: a pace
that age has settled on; so I turn
to inner landscapes, imagination
remembering colour…and yes, light.

(Image my own creation)

Time Out

My to-do lists have grown appendages
are teaming up in a huddle
plotting their next play

Wait a minute, Guys! I plead
the afternoon sun has caught me
at just the right angle,
and my chair,
with a mind of its own,
is reclining…

Can’t we save the game day antics
for another time…

(Image my own)

Off Center

The scenery outside my window
is passing by too fast, and
I’m facing backwards, waves
of nausea disrupting the view

I focus on emotion, animated,
try to discern its origin, realize
it is misplaced; I am disoriented
laugh at the enormity of my blunder.

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, Dear Brother?
Oh, that’s right…married…
woman with a good job
willing to let you putter in the background

Guess we were both misled.

(No Idea! first appeared here November 2020. Image my own.)