This life a road –
the way prepared
signs to guide me,
and still, I get lost.
Construction, distraction,
disobedience – throw me off –
tendency to choose tougher routes,
broken down and been sidelined
And yet, the road still beckons,
invites progression, thrills.
A rolling stone gathers no moss,
my father liked to say, and so…
I push ahead, keep motoring,
trust the obstacles – more lessons –
will polish off the rough patches,
and eventually learn to shine.
(Written during my bedbound years with ME/CFS)
Sorry –
so much inadequacy
bundled into one word
as if five letters
can convey
depths of regret,
shock, dismay
seems I am the spark
to your lighter fluid –
unintentional, I swear
still reeling
from the aftermath
of the explosion
attempting to
deconstruct the
formula –
precautionary
I am sorry –
that you are enraged,
that you are so obviously disappointed
that you are consumed with resentment –
except, it is sadness, not regret that I feel.
I cannot own this,
was always honest,
forthright,
did not feed your expectations
Besides,
learned long ago –
we don’t have the power
to make anyone
feel anything
least of all,
sorry.
So I’m not sorry,
but maybe
if you could just tell me,
give me an inkling
of what you might need
I can help us out of this hole.
(Image my own)
We purchase boards
imagine roots –
dream bigger
ignore the dawning
The higher the fence,
we tell ourselves,
the better the privacy.
Work hard, earn big.
And the longing grows
it’s the heart that seeks roots
hungers for connection
love like sunshine
Would knock down walls
throw open the doors
bask in the expansiveness
of kindred moments shared.
(Image mine)
Really wasn’t your fault
this fury that overcame –
Words evoked onslaught,
a raging river of pain.
Didn’t mean to push you,
miscalculated my aim,
swimming in swamp waters
not a recommended game.
You floundered, gurgled,
cursed me by name –
our love story, now viral
brought an alligator fame.
(Image my own. Tale is totally fictional, I promise.)
Wildlife flirts
blossoms sing
air vibrates
sun and rain
Birds and bees
buzz in harmony
but a single note
thrills my senses
Canada Geese
squabble and waddle
while Mallard Mom
herds young into reeds
A splash signals
presence of beaver,
but my ear is fixated
eyes scanning green
For a glimpse
of brilliant orange
capped with black –
Baltimore Oriole
(Image my own)
One Woman's Quest 