yearning – One Woman's Quest

Even Ghosts Yearn

Natural light preferable
to artificial – not the harsh
fullness of noonday sun
but softly filtered rays –
luxurious…
inviting

Love too, should be subdued,
gentle as a zephyr –
not mythical, but yielding…
mindful
not worshipful nor boastful
but comforting…
warm

I am waning light
the mistral wind wafting
no longer a force of nature
but smoke, spiralling
vanishing into non-existence

And yet,
even as shadows spread
I yearn – heart
beating true
not lost,
not forgotten,
but withdrawn…
humbled

passion mellowed
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
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)

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.