Is it romantic to be a muse?
I found it intolerable:
long-suffering martyrdom
for brief significance;
Broken butterflies
unpin your wings
untethered
eyes raised
fly!
Tag: life
Beyond Beneath
Beneath the broken bridge, a door
Through every wall, a window
On moaning winds there plays a song
In sorrow, hope to cling to.
A sigh is heard, a tear is kept
No matter whose or why it’s wept,
No puzzled thought is cast aside
A love divided multiplies.
Those yesterdays are never spent
in vain, they are our treasure,
Such wondrous jewels lest we forget,
A worth beyond all measure.
A sigh is heard, a tear is kept
No matter whose or why it’s wept,
No puzzled thought is cast aside
A love divided multiplies.
A Martyr’s Place
I’ve lost count of
the times I got
up on my feet
after falls from grace.
I am kissed and then
stripped again, tied
to crossed bars and then
whipped apace.
I’ll roll stones in the
morning, by evening
those stones will be
back in place.
I confess I am tired
of the words ‘you are hired’
in this martyr’s space.
Eve
She bit the wrong apples,
while conversing with serpents,
dressed ‘inappropriately’
Did all that we do…
But Eve grew immeasurably
because of her journey,
and never took for granted
the faith of a few.
Now, in another garden:
the place that Eve planted,
made from ruined chances,
and sadness and pain,
Is a bounty abundant
with fruits of compassion
where kindness and solace
are growing again.
Clay Men
My idle hours are spent
On any project that
Doesn’t use too much
Energy, or blow what
Little life I have
In evening solitude.
Now I am whole again,
Growing is an option.
Clay men feel ambiguous,
Liking to bathe, but
Anticipating their own meltdown,
You see, I am one of them.
Flying
In a difficult week, in one of those years,
when emotional turmoil turns laughter to tears,
when the brakes are unhandled, with life in freefall,
you may find yourself flying in the face of it all.
Tip your chin to the stars and trust you can ride
with your heart on your sleeve and your arms open wide,
Let courage embrace you and soften your pain
so your dear ones discover the real you again x
Watermark
It’s funny how our lives will weave
a pattern which we can’t conceive
of when we try to plan a route
from A to B. So what’s afoot?
Relax your eyes and look again
and you will see another frame
existing but so nearly not
it’s hard to know the path it plots
but trust its steady head and heart
To guide your hand as you depart.
