On Nature

How is that a tree can stir my soul, so?
Yet, set amongst the Douglas firs –
an orchestra of giants, the reassurance
of green towering and proud – the music
of my soul is nothing less than symphonic.

How is that the sky can speak to me?
No words to convey its vastness, yet
it breathes new life into empty spaces,
whispers promises, ignite a hope
synonymous only with its expanse.

How is it that a body of water -be it
serene, flowing, or turbulent, can tug
at the corners of my emotional well,
create a longing for the unknowable,
toss me from my bed of complacency?

And how does a single flower, growing
wild, crack this shell of indifference –
the determination to blossom despite
harshness of surroundings – instil such
inspiration, motivate me to rejoice?

(On Nature first appeared here, April of 2018, written during our month long stay on Vancouver Island. Submitted here for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: nature. Image my own.

Pain

Pain.

I push against it
challenge it

A warrior intent
on proving
I am…

indestructible
unwilling
to flinch

Convinced
that denial
equals power

Except, it gnaws
at my edges
tears me down
bit by bit

Just as I prepare
to succumb…
clarity

…this is invitation

…surrender is a gift

…pain is passage

I let go
absolve myself
of the need….

(Pain first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II in June of 2016.
It has been edited here. Art my own.)

(Water: Haiku and Free Verse)

Even the river bleeds
fiery frigid essence
Earth’s watery voice.

**

It is the river
that calls, waters
flowing through my veins

and I, the banks
steadfast and holding

the razor sharp edges
like liquid steel
erode my earthen postures

challenging…
blessedly challenging…
the hardened places.

(Water: Haiku and Free Verse first appeared here in June of 2018. It is has been edited for this version. Image my own.)

Deceit

“I’d like to get you know more,”
he said, pulling up a chair
met with stunned silence

“Truly,” he prodded, “I feel
as if we’ve drifted apart,
and I’ve ignored us.”

I might have said “No kidding”
but hope swelled with his words
and I blurted: “Ask away.”

So he listened,
as he had that first night
when tipsy and enamoured

We’d stumbled home
from the bar, and he
into my bed…and stayed

Seventeen years
three children
and five houses

and now he wanted to know
all about me – my interests
my dreams, my fears

And trout-like, I bit
spilled it all, still believed
in turning points and

riding off together
into the sunset, reunited
by undying love

It all showed up,
twisted of course,
in the court affidavit

material to defeat me
in divorce – discredit
my parenting capabilities

He didn’t succeed, still
wish we’d mingled more
you know – actual dates

before I’d committed
my life to this robotic
man, who never saw me.

(For Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: mingle. Image my own.)