aging · life · Love · poetry · writing

Together, Hope

Aged and well worn –
history and family
have left their marks –
weakness surfaces.

I tug at the imaginary
unravel essential core –
hearts burdened hide
gilded truths

Uncovering, a collaborative task
housing a trove of potential –
optimism and hope within,
always more room for growth.

(Image from personal collection)

creativity · poetry

Together a Tapestry – V.J. Knutson — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Across the miles, our words convene, threads of our lives intertwining to form a tapestry. Stories of sorrow and kindness, humanity restored – of observation and empathy of inspiration through resonance of brilliance and artistry. Each thread as colourful as another, delicately added, thoughtful musings. Of generations and legacies, misunderstandings contributing to […]

via Together a Tapestry – V.J. Knutson — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

aging · Family · life · Love · poetry · relationships · writing

Crusader’s Return

This exile –
self-imposed, I confess –
wears thin with age.

Too many winters
braving the cold –
heart’s frozen rebellion
against Father’s tireless raving,
Mother’s queenly submission.

So many moons
engaged in a crusade –
armed with but a hollow sword –
the chill of time lapsed,
irretrievable.

Castle lights are waning,
death lingers in the air,
and only now, on this fateful
periphery, do I wonder –
measure the rage against costs –
blame’s righteousness builds
only walls – faults corpses
rotting either side.

Empty-handed, I approach,
cowed by the enormity of task –
bearing no gifts, no legacy –
only a paltry offering
of forgiveness – pray
I am not too late.

(Image provided by Willow Poetry as her weekly challenge:  What Do You See?  Also linking up with Frank  at the dVerse pub, whose theme tonight is blame and forgiveness.  Ragtag Community’s prompt is fault.)

health · ME/ CFS · poetry · travel · writing

Desert

Take me to the desert
with mountains at our side,
walk with me in shadows,
let nature be our guide

We’ll stroll amongst the cacti,
pay homage to the quails;
take me to the desert
help me gather tales

The seasons are passing,
we’re running out of time;
take me to the desert
to heal this heart of mine.

***

By the time you read this, Ric and I will be on the road, headed south.  Texas and Arizona proved to be places of healing for me last year, and I hope that this journey will continue that process.