Category Archives: beauty

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Apothecary Cabinet

The many drawers
of an exquisite
apothecary cabinet
catch my eye.
Lustrous brownish-black
wood with a hint of purple,
appears to glow
from within.

Strong straight wood grain
is etched with delicate
curls and waves.
A unique beauty stands
before me.

I am transported
to a long ago time.
A dark haired man with
gentle hands grinds a
mortar and pestle.
A young woman with a limp
child in her arms
stands rocking
side to side
waiting patiently for the
apothecary to complete
a potion for her son.

Spices, tobacco, dried herbs,
mortar and pestles,
spoons and scales,
can be seen
in various drawers.

I wonder about the
compartments in my life.

My home, the shell I live in.
Filled with carefully chosen
art and trinkets to adorn walls,
soft blankets and bright colors
strategically placed in homage
to an identity I continue
to seek.

My car, a familiar cocoon
I enter each morning
and hurtle down roadways
to open the door into
another compartment
where I will spend
eight hours of my day;
one third of a revolution
around the sun.

My life is a series
of moving from compartment
to compartment
with only
slight adjustments
along the way.

As I continue to look at the
beautiful cabinet before me,
rich in history and
memories polished
into the wood,
I look skyward and envision
a great alchemist
looking down.
A great alchemist
peeking into the drawers
of my apothecary life
waiting to see what
combination of materials
I will choose
from the many compartments
before me.

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Treasure Keeper

dragon

A dragon emerges from
smoky grey and black
clouds.
Ancient symbols
spin around his head.
Razor sharp, spiky teeth
and scaly back, glisten
like carefully crafted
obsidian spears.

The maiden is not afraid.
Her long hair is loosely
gathered.
A single braid is pulled
to one side. Heavy silk
layers of soft mauve
seem to disappear and appear
again as smoke swirls about
the cavern.

Restlessly, the dragon
circles the space.
The maiden remains still.
She dreamt of this
majestic beast.
She saw his ferocious eyes
sensitive to the slightest
movement.
She saw his bravery
and his compassion.

When the dragon stops pacing
their eyes meet,
their hearts lock.
The maiden steps toward
the flaming roar,
her trust protecting her
from the raging fire.
As her small hand touches
the chest of the beast,
a single drop of blood
is drawn from her delicate
finger. With a swift turn
of his head the dragon
catches the drip on the tip
of his tongue.
Their fate is sealed.
Her treasure
will be forever protected.

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Momentum

A golf club,
I thought forgotten in the grass,
moved,
stopping me in my tracks.

A desert mistress appeared silently,
a flicker of light glinting off her scaly back.
She lay basking in the long, green golf course grass,
hidden off the fertilized fairway,
near a perfectly groomed sand trap.

My approach interrupted
her warm, sunny toasting reverie.
Momentarily our two worlds merged,
each assessing the other.

She had a strange beauty,
my curiosity piqued.
Dusty gray-brown skin hosted
mingling stripes, evolving to a distinctive
diamond shape marking, that ended with
a tail rattle held high.

She did not hiss or flick her rattle;
did not coil to strike.
She slithered and wound away,
slowly disappearing,
desert sand camouflage completely
absorbing her patterned body.

Tiny vibrations
were left in her wake,
flickering at my heart.

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Infinite Possibility

white-room
(photo credit: katherinedutiel.com)
I awaken to a world of white.
Enveloped in a blank expanse.

A virgin future stares untouched before me.
A spotless past lay behind me,
no hint of transgressions of my ancestors visible.
No trace of the path I have taken to get here
can be seen.

I am
where there is no beginning and no end.
I am.

Energy hovers and buzzes around me
like hummingbirds darting for nectar
amid the hearts of flowers.
I am
lifted
in this weightless, buoyant atmosphere.

Crisp innocence,
raw purity,
emanate from within this vast whiteness.

An undefined fresh start,
full of contained excitement,
moves slowly through pearly air.

A helium balloon of potential drifts lazily,
waits for its attached strings to be caught
and creativity ignited.
A stark canvas
awaits the first stroke of freedom.

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Tryst

Today in the alley, the wind tossing
paper cups kissed bright red, an ally

twisting to blend and dance among brown leaves,
removed evidence of a lover’s quick tryst –

rushing from one of the tall glass towers,
racing to meet his golden flame,

what a dream come true this must have seemed to him,
her waiting lips painted a shade to entice,

her hair slipping out of its knot, wind blown
beauty pitching his heart among the trash.