Between Two Worlds

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                                            Image courtesy of: AllPosters.com

 

She inquires

Are you coming back or just visiting?

I ask myself

Have I ever left?

My spirit resides in cold, granite rocks and crisp, gripping air

I stood outside at the airport

Basking in the north wind

Rejoicing in the sky that bore more clouds than sun

The southern nights have been restless in anticipation

Sleep elusive

I toss and turn in the stifling and stuffy night air

Rains of  sweat beneath my forehead and between my breasts

My body longing for the chill of a drafty house

and the warm pile of a fluffy comforter

The tip of my nose cool to the touch

Nostalgia keeps me coming back, I know

But the tug and pull of my  new life

reminds me of a joy that I am just beginning to sow

Day 13.  I am back in New England for a few days to visit the boys and my friends. My legs need some hills and a mountain to climb. I have been greeted with “Welcome Home!” already. Although in truth, I now have two places that bear the same name.

 

Thursday Tempest And a Run Delayed

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                                        Image courtesy of: favim.com

The city park glistens

Its puddles reflect the lampposts’ amber light

The rain pours off the roof

Pounding the patio tiles

And soaking my running shoes under the false shelter of the portico

Lightning cuts across the horizon in violent zigzags

Thunder causes the wine glasses to vibrate in their cabinet nests

Just as I think it abates and finally ceases

The roar and boom and the  furious deluge resumes twice more

and the darkness remains

Day 6. An early start to writing and a later start to running as newspapers-stuffed inside my shoes- dry my well-worn Sauconys.

Holier than Thou, How?

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  Image courtesy of: Two Spirits | Native American Gender Diversity | Independent Lens | PBS

Am I to drown in a lake of fire or am I heaven bound?  

Is my sin only manifested in one man

Fallen and depraved and under continuous damnation from God?

Am I truly the apex of all creation?

Am I a mere helpmeet unworthy and incapable of godly leadership?

Or is the Energy of The Spirit not bound in a book or the walls of a building?

Is it not flowing through rivers and streams

And the vast oceans that encompass this Earth?

Is not water the most Holy and High of all creation?

The One from which all life has sprung forth?

Is not water life itself, without which all living beings will perish?

Does The Spirit not speak to me in the blowing winds and rains and snows?

Is the message not heard in the noisy gong of birds at dawn?

And seen through the long looks of deer in the fields?

I say The Kingdom is within me

With each breath and prayer and call to action

I will persist against the evil and damning forces within our midst 

So keep me from your heartless judgements

Your parochial beliefs 

Your confines of complicit catechisms

Speaking Truth to Power is my road to Glory and Salvation

Day 5. I think I have said enough today.

Lost and Found on a Monday Morning

                             Sunrise over the athletic fields at work

 

Heading East

Riding the gauntlet

Eyes on the traffic

Fingers tapping a tune

No calm at daybreak on this byway

Paradise obscured by pavement and parking lots

The last light changes

And the landscape transforms into its verdant twin

Out of the lushness rises a sweet orange fire

Day 3. There is nothing I like about my commute to work except the destination itself. It offers a slice of peaceful paradise bayside. The ride home is a repeat with the beach a close reward at the end of the day.

 

 

Hush

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                                  Image courtesy of: PictureQuotes.com

                                   Sunrise delayed

                              Darkness lingering

                               Morning rain

                               Arriving gently

                        Relishing solitude

                 Postponing rising rituals 

                  Praying and Listening

      Offering only Hope for Illuminating Forces 

Incinerating the Indecency  Drowning our Nation

 

I am one day early for the WordPress 30 day poetry challenge for April. This morning was inspiring and the need too strong to delay.

Respite

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Image courtesy of: QuotesGram

 

This morning the park is quiet, gray and green

Last night’s cooling rains have tamped down the heated energy of the universe

I am soothed by the lack of searing light

Today I will rejoice in the unfolding

 Allow myself to pause

breath  and meditate

create and love

move forward

keeping my eyes on the prize

And let the winds carry my cares away

 

I am honoring a request from Tasmania (whose comment I read this morning and accidentally trashed; please forgive me :).   This poem is total stream of consciousness.  Thank you for reminding me of my other creative gifts.

Momentary Stillness

20161209_170539.jpgThe night is shrouded in a golden fog. I came home in the sunshine and as darkness fell, the thick white mist added an unexpected layer of peace. For once, I heard no sirens. I lit my trio of candles and our Christmas tree, made company with my mat and soothing yoga music. I nourish my spirit and ease my aching muscles. Beads of sweat form on my brow. Breathing in. Breathing out. I clear my mind of harsh thoughts and simmering anxieties. Seeking the light.