Faint at the sight of needles
a squeamish gene, I’m sure
Suck it up, adult self admonishes
Child looks away, breath held
Sixty-two years its been thus
too many pokes to count
And now there is new promise
a vaccine to ward off the virus
Hope reduced to one tiny vial
believe me, this sleeve’s rolling up.
(Written for Reena’s Exploration challenge. Image is the prompt.)
For every child
vowed to be the calyx
to cradle each budding soul
with a tender heart
But I am imperfect
ideals devolving
in the face of loss
cross unbearable
Tend my own garden now
recognizing the power
of example overriding
oppression of control.
(Image my own)
Concrete is cold, imposing
does nothing for aesthetics
At least we’re protected,
I tell the littles, ignoring
Snot dripping, slime
oozing from unsealed
windowsills, cobwebs
and bits of shedding pink
It’s the best I can do:
four walls and a roof.
Except the ceiling
is bulging, mold and rot
certain to rain down on us
While upstairs, the man
ignores the leaks, luxuriates
in his abundance…Momma
Said marry a rich man,
you’ll be set for life,
but it’s dawning on me
there’s more to it than that.
(For Eugi’s Weekly prompt: dawning. Image mine)
Erasing the past –
collecting ash with chopsticks –
infertile practice
embrace, learn, and recreate
we are clay – artist’s magic.
Wee rowan lad
drums me into night
a fabled rhythm
conjuring mystical
oneiric encounters
There is freedom
in dreaming
slipping ego’s hold
soul taking flight
There is sorrow too
for when the drummer’s
song is done
morning must come.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Age, a rocky tor
begs attitudinal shift
more wonder
than fortitude
Cyclical, actually
wisdom allotting
childish valour
a dash of mellow.
(For RDP’s prompt: mellow. Image my own.)
It wasn’t the knowledge of stability –
chaos had the upper hand back then.
It wasn’t even that love was expressed –
unconditional an unheard of concept
It was an unspoken presence
the reassurance of rocks
the irrepressible allure
of a freshwater stream
How a child’s heart
found encouragement
in the whispering wind
solace in arbored shelter
Naturally the din of home life
overpowered this self-assured
passage, disrupted kinship
and shattered childish faith
But all that is behind now
and when I clear cluttering
thoughts, disperse static
emotions, still the heart
The rhythms are still there –
presence offering sustenance…
(Image my own)
Oil glistens
contaminates
drinking water
250 evacuated
25 years of
boil-water advisory
an elder recites
and now this
We’re not animals,
adolescents rally
but ears turn away
government wheels rust
Neskantaga First Nation
want to go home
to live with dignity
know their human rights
Do they know
a .05% increase
in corporate taxes
would suffice
For the 73%
of First Nations
also lacking
this basic need
Acknowledge
prioritize
address
It’s all they ask.
(Written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge #168. Image and information sourced from :
ctvnews.ca
and Government of Canada: https://canadians.org/fn-water)
“What in your life is calling you, when all the noise is silenced,
the meetings adjourned…the lists laid aside,
and the wild iris blooms by itself in the dark forest…
what still pulls on your soul? “
– Rumi
I dwell in silence
meetings adjourned
list groceries
Former self faded
sorrowful shadow
definition slipped
I am the wild iris
pushing forward
in darkness, unseen
In contemplation
future doors heavy
snowy the path
If I follow light
I find promise
a verdant valley
I am guided
no destination
only presence
Physical constraints
merely distraction
I am the message
Light, shepherd
dreamer, woman
warrior, goddess
My soul pulls
invites passage
I am ready.
(Written in response to my weekly challenge – opening quotation. After meditating on Rumi’s words the image emerged and later this poem.)
Silent aftermath
sanctity violated
nuance exploded –
Will democracy endure?
What grows beneath the ashes?
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknuston. Image my own.)
