Sunday, February 24, 2013

Discipline, wordle 97

I wish I had it.
I missed it as a child,
rebelled against it as a teenager
and forgot all about it as an adult.
I flitted through marriages,
children, friends, work,
feeling heroic for moments,
but lacking patience
for the long haul.

I sit here gazing into my past,
remembering the sublime -
writhing in guilt at my follies
and when my heart is like fit to burst
I stare at a stone – ancient, veined -
from a time when prophets roamed
and spoke of love
and I feel tears stealing out.

Maybe I have reached my limits
of self abuse.
Perhaps now, as the swallows fly back
and the Spring sun warms my bones,
I can see some definition,
something akin to discipline,
threaded through the years.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

wild spirit wordle 96

faces, door, naked, lack, candlelight, imaginary, hiding, held, scurries, under, birth, root.

Preferring candlelight to sun, she went down,
away from the angry faces,
where the constant earth
cradles her.
Roots and leaves
cover her naked curves.

She scurries out
in the half light
to leave offerings
by the door
of herbs, roots, seeds
in exchange for her needs-
candle stubs, matches.
Little does she lack.

The birth of Spring will bring
her out of hiding.
When the cuckoo calls
across the wooded valley,
her imaginary chains will fall,
she will soar,
she will bloom and roar.
Her wild spirit
finally free.