Gambled late in life –
one more spin on love’s wheel –
we got lucky
You’ll need protection,
ego said,
and led me down paths
soaked with yesterday’s tears-
annoyances nipping at progress
But I am strong-willed
better than that,
I said, choosing to follow
a different route
The roulette wheel spins
and here I sit, alone
counting my wins
No amount of bargaining
can alter current misfortune
Pray my husband
finds his way back.
(Image 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.)
I am so tired of waiting,
Aren’t you,
For the world to become good
And beautiful and kind?
Let us take a knife
And cut the world in two –
And see what worms are eating
At the rind.
(February is Black History Month. Image my own.)
Disclosure:
While I strive
for wholeness
I am given
to negative
Thoughts –
while fractional
nonetheless
count individually –
Add it all up
and I am
at times
zero
An integer
swaying backwards
and forwards
begging patience.
(Image mine)
Lean into darkness
faith examining breadth
I will hold you, Love
fears imaginary, truth
luminous – let go and be.
(A prayerful tanka for my inner child.
Linking up with my weekly challenge: repercussions.
Image mine.)
A band of blue jays
gather around, debase
serenity of this garden
party: chickadees and cardinals
scatter, sense danger
in raucous intrusion –
Bemused, I watch, marvel
birds parodying humans.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
For Reena’s Exploration challenge: click here to see prompt and join in.
One tree –
a solo sentinel –
beckons
Take comfort,
says she,
beneath my boughs
But I am hungry
balk at simplicity
silence adverse
Till fate arrests me
legs no longer fleeing
the great Walnut my saviour.
(Image my own)
Wolf moon finds me
hungering – no
I am not a wolf
but I am starved
in this month of storms
snow blocking doors
temperatures dropping
Temperatures rising
flames of creativity
steaming panes
the season is wrought
belly-aching crave
I am wolf, howling
hoping the moon finds me.
(A bit of word play for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: Wolf moon. Image my own.)
Examining the intricacies
of a spider’s weaving
Marvelling as a mother raccoon
carries her babies one by one
while a bobcat prowls the tree line
Delighting in the birth of a calf
anticipating the arrival of more
Wonder and trepidation
coinciding – and I, behind
lens, am child again
wide-eyed basking
in the glorious outdoors.
One Woman's Quest 