Category: Poetry

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Onward

Ragged foothills lie
beyond the moors.

The tortoise leaves us
and recedes back into the mist.

Rocky teeth jut out of the ground
making our way treacherous.

We are pursued.

Centurians of the dragon city detest our escape.

We clamor into the unsteady outcrops.
Far enough ahead, for now.

We find people trapped
between fear of the monsters behind
and fear of the journey ahead.

We scramble on.
Rocks breaking and sliding under each step.

A great white mountain stretches before us.
Safety at its summit.

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Tortoise Home

We are alive in a tortoise shell
In the shadow of a dragon city.
Safe and hidden in this ancient amphibian.

Lumbering through foggy moors
Away from the flaming conflicts of the citadel.

The battle doesn’t know we exist
Warm and dark in our living cave.

Peaceful and protected
Plodding farther into calm.

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Oolong Afternoon

The sun slowly settles.
The kettle whistles.

Hot water over dried black leaves.
We share smiles through fragrant steam
     held close to our faces.

Impatiently we wait.

The water tans.
We sip and breathe in.
Oolong on our tongues and in our noses.

The sun sits a little deeper.

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Fighting Against Fear

Widowers shouldn’t get sick.
At least this one shouldn’t.

Three days in bed.
Another wave

Pain in stillness.
Relief in movement.

Through the memories.
Through the fear.

I emerge covered in tears.

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Ache Rush Away

I’m struggling the last day or so and grateful to receive this get well message from a wonderful woman in my life.

I try to find inspiration in her compassion.

“Ache Rush Away”

Peace draws near.

I trust in healing as another aching night closes in.

There is relief in breath and quiet.

I am ready to heal and say goodnight to this restless pain.

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Fog

Exhaustion rolls in without warning.
Muscles contract and head inflames.

It is time for rest.
It is time for rest.

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Dirt Magic

It’s rebirth season in the soil.

Fingers work between roots.

Wild purple weeds must make way for early strawberries.

Worms, beetles, and spiders labor alongside me.

We dig and clear.

Bees and wasps hang dowsy in the air.

We are all in the dirt, born of the dirt, growing in God’s dirt.

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A Careless Wish

A coin in your tea drawer.
Your favorite cup.
A lonely, tired morning.

“I wish you were here.”

You walk into the kitchen,
slow to wake eyes and thick, messy hair,
like every morning.

We hug, like every morning.

It should feel good.
But, it isn’t true. It isn’t right.
This isn’t every morning.

I fracture.

“I love you. You don’t belong here. You belong in Heaven.”
My heart wrenches.
Wordlessly, a gentle kiss, you walk away.

This is real.

I’m on my hands and knees, forehead to the ground.
Tears and sobbing prayers
begging for mercy from this pain.

This pain is mine.
A special gift I don’t understand.
It makes me whole again.

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