Crossing into
Dark and silent woods.
Waiting on the call,
Wondering if it matters.
Leaving one place,
To try again in another.
Going in,
No matter what it takes.
What’s next?
(Sunday Scribblings #271)
Crossing into
Dark and silent woods.
Waiting on the call,
Wondering if it matters.
Leaving one place,
To try again in another.
Going in,
No matter what it takes.
What’s next?
(Sunday Scribblings #271)
Every day
We find our rhythm
In much the same routine.
Sometimes
We meet different people
That color our lives
With dignity and love,
And leave a lasting impression.
These instances are rare.
Usually,
We go round in circles,
Making our indentation
In life, the world and time.
Like a beautiful sea shell
We become a treasure
Through our experiences,
Our relationships,
And our gifts.
(Magpie Tales,
Mag 69)
Most are fond
Of yesteryear,
Even with pain
And regret.
Perhaps one would
Alter a thing or two.
But we agitate
When considering
The frustrations
Of the present
And we seek
To control
The coming day.
Strange that we
Cannot be tranquil
Towards so much.
(3WW CCXLIV)
Some people are pretty positive.
They look on the bright side.
It doesn’t matter how bad,
They will find something good.
This is, I think, a great way to be.
It is a straight way to happiness.
The only problem with it is
They are not prepared.
Sometimes life does not treat you well.
Sometimes things happen that are unexpected.
And sometimes life changes you.
Life can change you from a positive person
To someone who looks down every alley,
Wondering at every shadow.
And if you come to this crossroads,
Beware thoughts that come in the night.
If darkness finds you, it will hold on tight.
It will not be easy to shake it off.
For you have been through something
That has changed you forever.
You will doubt, and you will fear.
You will become something
That you may have run from
All of your life.
(Carry on Tuesday #108)
Faith comes at the strangest times:
When I read a good book,
When I am touched by another’s actions,
And, yes, when I go to church.
I pull back, though, in mistrust,
As if to say to myself:
“Don’t start that again!”
For the many times I’ve been burned,
And the many doubts I’ve had,
About the bible, the church and God.
Rocking back and forth
In a spiritual quandary,
I struggle so much,
And I hesitate
Before jumping in.
Who or what can be trusted?
(Poetic Asides
Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 135)
Smooth, flying, dreams
Sweet, happy, memory.
Closed. Gone. Past.
The images go by,
Then fall over an edge
Never to return.
Living in illusion
Causes more pain
Then it escapes.
Lies, running, away.
What reality do I
Choose? What is
Real? What pain
Is true? Accept?
(Sunday Scribblings
#270, sweet)
“Whose responsibility is
It to change the world?
And what will be my
Contribution?”
First of all, I don’t think
Anyone is going to
Change the world,
Not really. Obviously,
The world has changed
In some ways, some
People say for the better.
I think we can do more.
I think we can live longer.
But are we more loving?
Do we forgive others more?
Do we have more faith, hope?
No, I don’t think so.
And I don’t think that any
Individual or group is going
To change that. Inside,
We have always been the same,
And we will always be the same.
And I certainly don’t think
Anything I do is going to change that.
And I think it is inside
That really matters.
I don’t think science
Is of everlasting importance.
I don’t think the study of history,
Or sociology, or psychology,
Or math, or English, or
Anything else, is going to
Change anything
About the world
That really matters,
At least to me.
Solid feelings about a
Contingent future
Adds up to what?
And what about a
Future in the extreme,
At the end, perhaps
After the end?
Doesn’t our life really
Show itself to be
Nothing beyond
One chance after
Another?
Does it matter how
We feel about it,
Or what we think
About it?
Does that change
Anything?
Can we predict
The unpredictable?
Sure, there are
Patterns.
There is science.
But science cannot
Predict human
Action or interaction.
Humans are unpredictable.
And the number of
Possibilities of human
Emotion, psyche, not
To mention crazy
Forces of nature—
No, don’t listen to
The damn weatherman!
There are too many
Unknowns.
And the possibility
Of spirituality,
The force of life
Itself, where it
Comes from and
Where it goes,
That, my friend,
Nobody knows.
Luminous eyes looked down on him.
He had felt them on his back,
Accompanied by the sound of
An erratic scratching back and forth.
He stepped away from the fire,
So he could see better in the dark.
“Whatever it was, it was big.
It looked like a wolf.”
“Maybe hungry. Not wise to
Feed wild animals, though.
Perhaps it’s time to call it a night,
Go to bed and hope it goes away.”
With shaking hands, he picked up
The fire bucket and dashed out the flames.
Quickly he made his way
Into the tent. “Bad omen.”
“Tomorrow morning,
I’m outta here.
No pleasure here knowing
Some big wolf is watching.”
“I’ll be sleeping lightly tonight.”
(3WW CCXLIII
Luminous, erratic, omen)
Life is full of change.
Some people are really good
At hiding changes in their life,
At least for a while,
Until life wears them down.
Some people you can tell
Right away that something
Has changed in their life,
But you still have to wait
To see how everything pans out.
Most of us don’t handle change
Very well. Even good change.
As they say all around,
“We are creatures of habit.”
But life has a way,
Even for those who are lucky,
Of bending your will.
Call it God, call it fate,
Or just luck. Sooner
Or later, there is going
To be a change.
When things are going well,
We fear it.
When life is hitting us hard,
We hope and pray for it.
And either way,
Most of us,
Do a funny thing—
We try to control it!
But those of us
Who have tried with
Everything we’ve got
And lost—
We know that life
Is like the weather.
There are seasons.
And within those
Seasons of life,
Anything can happen.
One thing is for sure,
And that’s nothing.
You just take
What life gives you,
And don’t worry
About the rest.
(Writer’s Island