Adrift

A gossamer thread floats lazily through the air
a breeze transports it
no particular destination in mind
As the silky strand drifts
it slowly rotates
spirals up and down
Sunlight glints and flickers on this unanchored spider’s weave
a twinkling filament
invisible made visible

What stories and knowledge
are woven into this strand?
How did it extricate itself from its web?
Has it been sent adrift meant to be found,
like a message in a bottle
waiting to reveal its secret?

Lion Puppet

My desk, like my life, is feeling a little cluttered. I’m working to change that. I want to slow things down. Enjoy, savor the moments. Recently I read,”There is sacred in what appears to be mundane.” I seek that sacredness! I am looking for the beauty and blessedness in the ordinary around me. Bursting daffodils with their delicate scalloped petals offer me their beauty. Tulip buds are taut and full; hints of colour foretelling what lies hidden inside. A couple more days of warm weather and the tulips will be revealed in all their glory.

I walk past a homeless man holding out his lion puppet. The encounter puts a smile on my face. He sits in his chosen spot. A piece of grey, uneven sidewalk under the overhang of a dollar store entrance. His blackened backpack is placed to his left and slightly behind him. The lion is on his left hand. This motley muppet could use a bath, as could its owner. The wheaten terrier golden wool issam-the-lion-puppet matted and looks like it has spent many days frolicking in a muddy field. But a grin splits its head as I walk by and its owner manipulates his character. “Smile at the pretty lady! It’s a beautiful day!” It’s hard not to smile back. The sight in front of me is impossible to ignore. The man himself has dirty blond hair. He has a happy voice and eyes that light up as he speaks. His own smile shows missing teeth and neglect but also the heart of a gentle soul. He asks for nothing. He doesn’t beg or have his hand out. He is just there with his puppet.

How does he spend his days? Where does he sleep at night? Is his head full of clutter and worry like mine? How does he view the world?

I see a fallen angel. Wounded wings ground a charming soul. At a glance he appears down and out but the charm that lives within still shines through. My gait feels a little lighter, my day a little sunnier. I have had a glimpse of the sacred in the mundane.

Limp Streamers

Cracker Jack crunch
Pop Rock fizz
Jelly Bean stick and chew

Waxy scent of blown out candles
wafts through the air
Remnants of chocolate cake with
bright pink and orange flowers lay
desecrated on its pedestal

Bits of paper speckle the floor
Confetti of the well wishers
With their silly hats and noisy horns

An orange splotch slowly grows on
white table cloth
Generated in a moment of hearty laughter
and rowdy toasting

Echoes of squeals of delight
linger in the room
Streamers droop
Balloons drift aimlessly
No one around to rub them vigorously in their hair
before trying to stick them on the wall

Tail is on the floor
three feet away from donkey
Any concern for impairment
gone with excitement of opening presents

Dishes and forks askew
chairs crookedly await
placement back in neat positions
under table

Party is over
Attendees sent home
fun and frivolity finished
for another year

Unexpected Guest

Female_House_Sparrow

soft thump

fallen sparrow
across path

startle out of reverie
to-do lists, plans
forgotten

delicate feathers
shades of brown and grey
blood matted
no wound visible
beneath ruffled plumule tuft

thoughts of death
tiny limp body
slightest beat of heart
Hope

carry home
cleanse
quench thirst
wait for healing to begin

quiet chirping
rising to crescendo
robust chords
quavering trill

rehearsing?
perhaps restating – reliving
trauma
that brought it to this place

towel nest
water
bread crumbs
all in order

Day break

minute dependant gone

one diminutive feather
caught on cotton loop
remains

left to ponder

mystery of unexpected guest

little sparrow
across path

Union

stock-footage-liquid-colors-meld-morph-slip-slide-undulate-and-blend-into-each-other
(the photo is stock footage from the internet)

I have a blended family
we live in a blended world
all part of the same fabric
same cloth of life

any barriers or walls
denied access
segregation
delineation
separation

are artificial

truth bleeds through division
seeps into awareness
permeates everything
if eyes are open to perceive

We are One
a colorful tapestry
a world of ideas, knowledge, talent

commingled

Restless

Restless spirit

a feisty colt corralled
longing to leap the fence
gallop freely among swaying grass and meadow flowers

turbulent energy spilling into a reservoir too small
to contain mounting power
a storm brewing
lightening about to strike when least expected

vitality swelling
looking for meaning not mere existence
exuding spunk and sparkle
a glowing ember about to burst into flame
consuming all with its brilliant radiance

Restless spirit

waiting

biding time

anticipating
eruption of Vesuvius proportions

no planning
no warning

no apology

Insomnia

The clock is ticking
a metronome
a numbing, staccato beat
each tick reverberates on my weary mind
a magnetic pull obliterating all other thought
and sound
heavy eyelids scratch and droop
sodden, wet wool in a Scottish rainstorm

I crave sleep
the ticking beckons
now, now, sleep now

but sleep dances away
teasing mercilessly
a Sufi dervish spinning, whirling
dizzyingly taunting

giddiness overtakes me
as the clock becomes my world
shapes move in and out of my bleary eyed vision
I’m flying through space
floating, drifting,distorted
only to be pulled back
by the ticking
THE DAMN TICKING!