creativity · nature · photography · poetry · writing

Delay

Robin’s melody bait
for this weary soul –

I hear promise
but nature is fickle

Winter renews onslaught
mocks any hope –

Solution to melancholy
once again delayed.

(Image from personal collection)

aging · change · life · ME/ CFS · mental-health · poetry · writing

Rapture

Odd, this gift of solitude.  Perched canal side, I affirm my connection to the earth, and offer thanks. Late afternoon sun casts a glow on the foliage across the way, lighting up the mirror-still water.  Vibrant reflections.

Two winters ago, I fought to breathe as temperatures fell below zero.  Impassible walkways trapped me indoors.  Depression fought for possession. Hope struggles in imposed isolation.

“There are no absolutes in life,” a professor once told me, and I think of that now –
how just when it feels as if one sentence has been handed down, sealed, an opening appears.  I am fortunate, savour the moment.

Heron’s watchful stride
invites reflection, respect –

Winter’s solitude.

(Rapture first appeared here February 2019.  I offer an edited version here.

creativity · nature · poetry · writing

Midnight Encounter

Midnight
and moon casts an eerie light
shimmers of white-kissed fields

Headlights off,
I pause to contemplate the glow
endless skies here beyond city limits.

A herd of deer graze
ignore the hum of idling motor
celebrate the lunar flood.

What drove me here,
I cannot say; perhaps clouds
relentless in February skies.

Or maybe it was another pull,
a knowing, a grace, calling me
to open spaces – an offering

Surreal this suspended moment
stars dispersing sombre greys
tides of emotion releasing

I am transported,
uplifted, encouraged –
Heaven’s stellar promise.

(Inspired by a midnight ride and Eugi’s Causerie prompt of the week:  stellar.  Image from personal collection.)

 

aging · creativity · 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;
heal this heart of mine.

(Desert first appeared here in November 2018.  As Winter blows in around us, I think longingly of our time spent in warmer climates. Image from personal collection.)