Find hope in sunsets
bursts of magnificence
momentarily absolve
worry, guilt…
When did fear gain
such hold, and how
do I demystify its lies?
The setting sun knows,
I am certain, will follow her
into darkness…
(Image my own.)
Find hope in sunsets
bursts of magnificence
momentarily absolve
worry, guilt…
When did fear gain
such hold, and how
do I demystify its lies?
The setting sun knows,
I am certain, will follow her
into darkness…
(Image my own.)
This year the plague came
and I blamed the wind
for carrying destruction
and I blamed the sun
for its ineptitude
and the rain,
no friend of mine,
only served to drown
my expectations.
Lockdown
and social distance
masks and antiseptics
how was a soul
to survive?
Pushing 2020
out the door
certain relief
would follow
but change is not
a date on the calendar
a release of circumstance
I turned inward
faced the gloom
and found a spark
forgave the weather
the virus, the news
In 2021, I woke up…
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: I woke up in 2021… Image my ow
Teach me reverence
am losing ground
children adulting
mothering in a void
Teach me acceptance
disability’s waters flood
I’m in the margins
an afterthought
I concede life changes
release control – passion
begs an outlet; I am worn
but I am open. Teach me.
(Image mine)
Spring-loaded
the lever
that releases us
from reality
One minute
set on a path
the next, victim
course uncharted
Survivors
question –
existential
questers.
There is no promise
life passes, sometimes trickles
we survive or thrive
love as glue, spirit reigning
heart open – sacred witness.
(Image my own.)
No amount of empathy
could help me understand
the storm inside my father
Even in his death, thoughts
cloud my writing, his presence
preserved in prose…
(Even though it’s been fifteen years, my father’s essence remains strong – sometimes taunting, sometimes inspiring, always mysterious.)
And when the fatal breath expels
and all is quiet, will you remember me
Bright as an orange bloom
with my words locked inside
A poem inspiring eternity
or will my essence shrivel
Be lost – like dust particles
exposed in afternoon sunbeams?
(Image my own.)
There is comfort
in old friendships,
reminders of things
forgotten, of misguided
adventures, and the folly
of youth; and there is hope
instilled by the passage of time
and the evidence that while life
changes, some things endure, and;
it is in the comfort of old friendships
that we find strength to believe in ourselves,
and the will to penetrate lingering angst, and
embrace the possibility of a future with purpose.
(To Old Friends first appeared here in December 2017. Image my own.)
Passenger, am I
backseat traveller
input unsolicited
I ride along.
Passenger, am I
view limited
direction speculative
I am not driving.
Driver is motivated
self-assured
I relax…until
temptation boards
Wait a minute; who invited temptation?
Driver is distracted
ego taking the wheel
Who’s paying attention?
I am not alone.
Lackadaisical dropout
sits with me – mooch
and weekend boozer
How did he get here?
Vehicle is outdated,
I warn, not a lot of room
ride at your own risk
They don’t make them like this anymore.
Crazy sister is here too
or maybe it’s me, ’cause I swear
I saw the ghost of another
It’s a good thing I’m not driving.
Darkness falling and out of gas
we stop and neon lights blare
Make a break for it!
Or… I could find a new driver.
Maybe put God at the wheel.
Would have to pay attention.
Oust the adulteress and sloth.
Be on my best behaviour.
Turn my vehicle into a golden chariot
powered by horses with wings of white
fly above all the obstacles
Headed for the Promised Land.
All fantasy, of course
I’m a backseat passenger
until vitality is restored
Then I’ll park this old model
And get a new one with GPS.
(Ride along with me first appeared her November 2014. This version is edited. Image my own.)
Been riding the down elevator too long
a slight detour, I once, long ago, thought
Ambitions set on Penthouses
and upper echelons of success
First, there is a trip I must make
a downward pull insisting –
See, it isn’t true what they say
that we can be whatever we want
It’s time to stop running,
stop chasing empty promises
I’m getting down to roots
causes and influences
history revealing a legacy
here in the depths of self
a final reckoning that bears light
seems I’ve miscalculated directions
I’ve been riding the down elevator
about to alight on revelation.
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge #160. Image my own. Hayes is my maiden name.)