Mother's Kisses

When I was small I would run and run
Until my legs and arms sped faster
Than my little body could navigate.
Then, a very moveable force came upon
An immovable object, to my legs' chagrin.
Then, my mommy would kiss the booboos away
With the magic elixir that only mothers possess.
Is that a woman's birthright, or is it bestowed
In some secret rite to mark the passage from
Maiden to matron? She was Woman and all women
Not knowing what else there might be
Not understanding that all others would deny
To me the soothing caress of healing power.

When I was a stripling, conflict with
Paternal power grew large to fill my world.
Confused between desiring approval and receiving none
But for the echo I could be of his frustrated dreams.
Still, the magic from mother's touch sustained me through
Barbs and arguments and capitulations and victories.
Regardless, there was only one way out, all roads but this,
Anywhere but here; and so I was gone with neither force
To guide or protect. A wanderer without a compass,
A seeker without a clue, a sailor without the stars.

Now, with the weariness of battle-scarred veterans
Telling tales of long-forgotten wars and deeds,
We can face each other again, and both sorely miss
The life force that once glued us tight together.
All that remains is the sapling, now sturdy,
With wandering branches gently enfolding
The scant traces of long ago children, who
Danced and played in its comforting shade.

A Hiding Space

Who can I possibly be if I chameleon my way
Through conversations. So easy to slip back on
The mask there ere I wore
To even notice as it occurs and like a falling stone
Unable to stop or even slow the maddening descent.

I guess I’ll have to be content
With awareness as the consolation prize
At least for now until a better one can be conjured.
Still, like a comfortable old jacket that easily conforms
To my shape, I conform to the shape of the conversation.

The performer in me takes charge and, egged on, continues
Since I cannot resist the enticing drug of approval,
So tempting, so immediate, so irresistible.
So I accept the falling and the masks and the rewards
While the rest of me hides safely away; for now.

A Space to Unfold

“I’m just not sure what I really want,” she said,
With eyes glancing up, a smile curling her lips.
“It’s all so new and enticing to be able to
Just show up as me!” The flash in her eyes lit the room.
“And yet there’s still a part that gets spooked
All too easily when it gets too deep.”

A shuffle of papers to a letter from before
Written as someone to herself, divorcing as it were
The inner demons that tormented and flayed at her insides.
Some have been banished, some just paroled.

She licked her lips and gazed wistfully beyond
To new possibilities now unfolding, the underbrush parting
To bend to newfound strength.
“Who was I, then, to have been so frightened…
And yet with power comes discomfort;
But I shall never go back to how I was.”

Muse Takes a Holiday

Where did you go, will you ever return,
Or is it something I must earn?
Have you gone away to stay
Or will you return some day?

My words now stumble
For them I fumble
They slide and elude me
And won’t come to me.

Please come back, I need you soon
Or I’ll sit forever in this room
Searching for the outward track...
Oh - there you are; welcome back!

a single clear drop
clings tightly to the twig end
then gently lets go

after rain, clear air
pale grey ocean waves splash high
rocks stand stoically

otter floats on back
all whiskers and matted fur
only for my sake

sandpiper scurries
ocean’s heartbeat caresses
do I only watch?

Out of the Depths

From the darkness of death, relinquishing any hope
Seemingly stuck in the dark pit of despair
With no life, no air, no chance for redemption
The vessel broken beyond repair

Yet once again there is the empty tomb,
Yet once again does light break through
Yet once again is a ray of small hope
Yet once again does spring of life ensue.

The word made flesh to be consumed,
The bloody drink to comfort anew
The aching thirst for life restored
Diverts the death march coming through.

I cannot find the way myself
Though fear keeps me gripping tight
To the chains that fetter me to darkness,
The sacrifice shines the healing light.

So I am softly led from darkness
Through the warm and gentle grey
Where release, though undeserved, is given,
Redemption in the crowning day.

The Summit

How do I find myself in this dark pit -
No light, no hope, no way out
Try as I might top push away
This searing band around my soul,
It drags me deeper into the pit
And holds me down with no remorse or pity
A cold, heartless, place in which to shiver
With no other choice but to resign to its
Cold iron casket enfolding the corpse of my heart.

A young boy reaches through an iron gate
For a daisy beckoning brightly in the sun.
His pudgy arms are but inches short,
His fingers curl on empty air.

After the long cold climb to reach the summit
Slogging and picking through steep cliffs
And dragging a pack through heavy drifts
The pinnacle lies but a short trek up
But blocked by rocks and overhangs too acute
To traverse. So it remains in sight yet
Unattainable, only to be made into a memory
Of what might have been.