We are our choices

no Yang without Yin
we all have that dark within
we must make choices

moment to moment
twixt the two and in the end
we are our choices

Changes

I wrote the poem below, long before this journey began in earnest. I knew then, that I wasn't following full time, my dream.

Pulled in so many directions by an exceptional (modern terminology for lots of problems) child. It was necessary to have the best job with great insurance and live in the best neighborhood with the best schools with special education programs. After that, a husband with cancer...I won't belabor the point - I'm sure you get it and I'm not the only one that works the 9-5 and then some to provide for family.

Well those days are long gone and I somehow stayed in that rut. No more. It is so time to move on. I planned this once before (the poem below was written in 2007), but somehow I got sidetracked - not this time. I'm exploring the whispers and giving them form, so it is no longer ephemeral. I'm making 'real' the change that once 'rode the night wind.

my future rides the night wind
ruffles curtains, caresses skin
whispers promises at the edge of dream
leaving traces of something almost seen

Critics are people, too

most people hate change
admit it or not they do
poor jk rowling

critics are people
they expect more harry's world
so pan the new book


I personally am enjoying the book, A Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling.  I've just begun, but it's drawing me in and I'm loathe to turn off the light, but Friday's a work day.  I'll review the book soon as I can. 

Laying life on the line

she sat pen in hand
journal open before her
her life paced the lines

glory inglory
marching cadence cross the page
bare and unadorned

Time like spare change

time spent like spare change
change so easily replaced
time forever gone

Mabon heralds fall

yellowing leaves cling
to boughs of trees loathe to leave
frost awaits its cue

War is not a game

unlikely fruit, life's
juices staining the pale ground
strewn along the strand

sea waves to and fro
washing away evidence
of war’s wanton waste

here and there, a child
sleeps never again to wake
felled grey-faced angels

Vagabond at heart

born a vagabond
did gypsies deliver me
not content with here

seeking what is next
the next one, or place or thing
just around the bend

The wheel is turning

time is in motion
it flows we just navigate
equinox solstice

again and again
the flow of days' apex reached
on toward darkest night

Winter count

astride a yellow
horse cross yellow fields she rides
neath fall's yellow leaves

winter's breath blew
hard and the people hungered
for spring's promises

My familiar

the star-white cat she
preceded her every where
none dared cross her path

familiar to one
fearful unknown to others
dragon at earth's edge

Edge of dream

she sat up amid
red silk startled from slumber
trying to hang on

to the edge of sleep
some important thought lurked there
moments then was gone

lost on waking like
errant remnants of a dream
fled beyond recall

Veils hide much

outside looking in
idyllic to naive eyes
but silhouettes lie

the soft glow misleads
softening real life's edges
fall's leaves veil winter

You can't hide

we hide what we are
behind facades shown the world
it changes nothing

that thin armor can’t
keep all the torches at bay
the night hides the stake

Hide - Conte Crayon on paper

Murder is murder

they slew we wyse
forged weapons of their god's name
murder just the same

Grow old along with me

men go for hot cars
women go straight for their hair
midlife adventures

Winter' coming

persephone's gown
changes moment to moment
green to gold next brown

she readies herself
soon soon to descend the stair
to Charon' ferry

Hope strewn like gems

lays of doom always
strew hints of hope like small gems
cardinals in winter

flower decked solstice
tree lighting darkest night
robins herald spring

One door closed..,

endings beginnings
doors close and others open
leaves fall spring melts snow

Remembering 911

a moment ago
a lifetime ago death rained
from out of the blue

to think that sun-kissed
blue skies can still make me cry
for innocence lost

Ice not ash this time

if theory proves true
earth's third motion buries all
this time ice not ash

Tenuous path

the strand's tenuous
step left sink wet right sink dry
and then there's the tide

Open the door

well lit cush corner
glass of wine cat's purr book's door
through the looking glass

In the wings

summer's waning days
give way to trees' falling leaves
frost waits in the wings

Sipping wine

solutions to world
issues are so obvious
when we're sipping wine

Journaling

pen in hand they stand

long lines of women through time

countless pages writ


journals letters more

words telling the history

men tend to omit

Reflection

if I were you and
you were me what would you see
in me I in you?

To the pinnacle

headed out and up
sights set on the mountaintop
to cleanse body mind soul

the past falls away
replaced by future glimpses
incentive to climb

Night

waiting shadows board
charon's boat gliding cross night's
sky at hades beck