Walking through puddles

I would have walked barefoot

Through miles and miles 

Of muddy waters

To be with all of you.

Until I realized

You only wanted 

A "side piece" of me.

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you," 

Bram Stoker, Dracula.

Sightings

I catch glimpses of her in death-

Her semblance all around me. 

In life, I never saw her at all.

Brilliant, blinding 

In Light and Shadow

Still she remains 

A mystery.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: 

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever, 23:6,

A Psalm of David .

The Prompt

Hearth embers smolder

As we lie in

Each other's arms

Saving the world while

Sipping Crown Royal

Smooth, Succulent:

Shameless.

Casualties of dueling tragedies

Not of our making

Ravaged by

"Cuts most unkind"*

Unrequited, we remain

Lost in the shadows of

Our darkest dreams.

*"The most unkindest cut of all," William Shakespeare

Revelation

Universal Truth

Rescuing us from ourselves:

Delusion Killer.

The Crone

Crone Goddesses

‘When a woman feels alone, when the room
is full of daemons,” the Nootka tribe
Tells us, ‘The Old Woman will be there.”
She has come to me over three thousand miles
And what does she have to tell me, troubled
“by phantoms in the night”?
Is she really here?
What is the saving word from so deep in the past.
From as deep as the ancient root of the redwood,
From as deep as the primal bed of the ocean,
From as deep as a woman’s heart sprung open
Again through a hard birth or a hard death?
Here under the shock of love, I am open
To you, Primal spirit, one with rock and wave,
One with survivors of flood and fire,
Who have rebuilt their homes a million times,
Who have lost their children and borne them again.
The words I hear are strength, laughter, endurance.
Old Woman I meet you deep inside myself.
There in the rootbed of fertility,
World without end, as the legend tells it.
Under the words you are my silence-

"When A Woman Feels Alone, " May Sarton

 

     

Triple Goddess

"An Appearance," Sylvia Plath

The smile of iceboxes annihilates me.
Such blue currents in the veins of my loved one!
I hear her great heart purr.

From her lips ampersands and percent signs
Exit like kisses.
It is Monday in her mind: morals

Launder and present themselves.
What am I to make of these contradictions?
I wear white cuffs, I bow.

Is this love then, this red material
Issuing from the steele needle that flies so blindingly?
It will make little dresses and coats,

It will cover a dynasty.
How her body opens and shuts —
A Swiss watch, jeweled in the hinges!

O heart, such disorganization!
The stars are flashing like terrible numerals.
ABC, her eyelids say.

Sylvia Plath

 

Reunion

Of friends lost and found-
The virtual kind
In a world full of tweets and news bites
Snippets of lives lived in happiness
And turmoil hidden
Behind smiling selfies,
Our truth revealed 

In animation,

Emoji the language of

Our humanity.