Natural light preferable
to artificial – not the harsh
fullness of noonday sun
but softly filtered rays –
Love too, should be subdued,
gentle as a zephyr –
not mythical, but yielding…
not worshipful nor boastful
I am waning light
the mistral wind wafting
no longer a force of nature
but smoke, spiralling
vanishing into non-existence
even as shadows spread
I yearn – heart
by years of constructing walls –
grit and tar –
scar’s long buried
save the limping gait
of a ghost.
(Even Ghosts Yearn first appeared here in July, 2018. Image my own.)
Teach me reverence
am losing ground
mothering in a void
Teach me acceptance
disability’s waters flood
I’m in the margins
I concede life changes
release control – passion
begs an outlet; I am worn
but I am open. Teach me.
Downy blankets of white settle softly,
Nature gratefully submitting to slumber
as the Earth bids a seasonal adieu.
Inside, my body craving hibernation
curls into layered bedding, draws shades
against the snowy scene, wills respite.
My soul, a cat, lulled by the miracle
stretches wide paws, arches, ready
to discover some mystic wilderness.
She is primordial, a snow leopard,
camouflaged, elusive, a silent stalker
instinctively hungry for nourishment.
Weakened, I yield, certain she will prey
on this near lifeless flesh, leaving me
bloodless, hide-less: a mere carcass.
Then I shall lay down in the frigid warmth
of winter’s illusion and surrender rotting
self to the Earth’s core; pray for rebirth.