adversity · life · poetry · relationships · writing

Backlash

Transient, this life –
visit the nested,
encounter knots,
snakes threatening,
recognize the poisonous
intrusion, try to deflect,
avoid confrontation,
but even perfection
is vulnerable –
temptation test
sticky business –
that which I seek
to remedy, only
comes to roost on me.

life · mental-health · poetry · Uncategorized · writing

Toddler Takes Over

Look at me –
all authority and control –
productivity overload

until emotion,
undisciplined,
toddles in,
waves her curls
disrupts

feed her sugar –
a bribe to settle her down –
she’s having no part of it

topples organization,
sabotages rationality –
child’s mind taking over.

art · creativity · culture · poetry · women's issues · writing

Imagining Genius

Imagine befriending genius –
accepting social awkwardness
embracing habitual quirks as
incubation for enlightenment.

If I could strip down, release
preconceived notions, agendas,
lie naked, exposed, in shallow
waters, intimately entwined,

unencumbered by sexuality
or gender protocols, I would
shake this sensual impotency –
become one with creativity.

As my father, wounded, I
am inhibited by my feminine,
opting for compliance over
strength, a conditioned identity.

His mystery extends, flawless
sculpting, archetypal secrets,
pretense proclaiming normalcy,
usurping vitality, genius stifled.

(Submitted in response to Reena’s Exploration Challenge #78.  Click the link to see the quotation prompt.  Imagining Genius first appeared here in Feb. 2016. Image from personal collection.)

creativity · ME/ CFS · nature · poetry · spirituality · writing

Rapture

It’s odd, this gift of solitude.  Perched beside the canal that runs behind our site, I affirm my connection to the earth, give thanks for this place and moment, and acknowledge that I am a part of all that surrounds me.   The late afternoon sun casts a glow on the foliage across the way lighting up the mirror-still water with vibrant reflections.

Two winters ago, I was fighting to breathe as temperatures dropped below zero. Trapped inside my home by impassible walkways, I was desperately trying to stave off depression.  It’s hard to be hopeful when isolation is imposed.

“There are no absolutes in life,” a professor once told me, and I think of that now – how just when we think our sentence has been handed down and sealed, an opening appears.  I have been most fortunate.  I savour each moment this current state of solitude offers.

Heron’s watchful stride
invites reflection, respect –
winter’s solitude.

(Kim is hosting in the dVerse pub tonight with solitude being the prompt for our haibun.)