the wounding is the same
self inflicted in moments perceived through lenses lost in time
eternal scenes rehearsed to protect a shattered soul from love scorned
so taught by mothers and mother’s mothers until each is carried
Image courtesy of “Franziska/ Whataboutawaterbottle”
spaces feared and forgotten
with daily breath once harboring hope and love.
Picture via “amdally” wordpress.com
I race through lines of shadowed trees
marking highway miles
Beams of sun flash inbetween
stains of light on dark
Never slow. Never stop.
Nothing stills the soul
A one-way movement through the day
as still the cancer grows
Nothing soothes the sting of flames
lining every breath
A daily journey–race it seems
through lines of shadowed trees
Another lightning in-between the patient-doctor space-
Data-speak and comfort lines
my very human face
reflecting life as memories
shadows close the day.
Photo by Trevor Cole
She knew beauty from inside out
flaming life with gentle sparks
When death like cancer found her heart
beauty breathless cried for help.
She died too early for spring’s warmth
beneath the surface broken, hurt
with hopeful lilies by her side
and dreams of color catching light.
I always remember my dreams. They reset and reframe the truth lying just underneath my daily life and struggles.
In anticipation of 2017, my sleep brought the terror of a whirlwind. Being swept away by the forces of nature, I woke distressed to say the least. This unsettled mood lasted through the last day of 2016.
I woke this am, however, on a journey abroad in the company of family and strangers . I was advising others on how to pack but also reorganizing my own bag.
Perhaps I am ready to move on.
Lock the door on your way out.