Going Through the Motions

Have you ever felt like you were simple going through the motions? You say the right thing, what people want to hear you say. You wear what you are expected to wear, your smile is sunny but doesn’t quite reach your eyes if anyone cared to stop and take a closer look.

The hello, the how are you, bursts of conversation without any depth. You start to reply but as you are talking you realize no one is listening. They didn’t really want to know how you are. They are caught up in their own thoughts, worries and fears.

They too are rushing head long through their days without a clear path of where they are going. Bobbing along like a cork in a stream. Trying not to get tossed around too much. But unlike the cork which is blissfully unaware of its tumultuous ride, you are using all you’ve got to keep your head above water.

Movements can be surreal. Like watching from a distance as your life unfolds. You can see what is happening but feel powerless to change. Your suggestions remain unheard, your prompting unheeded. Your invisibility radiates outward encompassing more and more until those automated motions are the only way to cope.

Note to self:
Must break out of Auto Pilot!

Source

goddess_of_colours_by_pixiecold-d6afvte
(Goddess of Colours by PixieCold on deviantart)

Electric atmosphere
Feel
Charged energy
Static
Hair stands on end
Heart pumps hard
Ribs bulge
Pulse races
Shallow breath pant

Nervous excitement
Anticipation

Crowd hushes
Morgan moves to edge of podium
Speaks
Time has come
Hear her words of wisdom

I am the source
A tree branching off in all areas
I am Goddess
Extending out
Engage with me
I carry knowledge
Wisdom within

Do not allow interference

Proceed
Stay strong
BE strong
Be kind
Be compassionate

Become a butterfly
Emerge
Move on, move forward
Shed Chrysalis

Advance beyond fear
Put it aside
Everybody has struggles
burdens
Sacrifices are necessary

Adapt
Unravel
Grow

Hear my Words
I am Source

Puppy Love

Japanese Bonsai Maple

 

My husband and I have an ongoing argument
over the merits of getting a puppy
Our conversations go back and forth
between pros and cons
Ping pong of Olympic proportions

puppies bring joy
puppies are work
puppies love unconditionally
puppies require care and attention
puppies are loyal
puppies chew shoes

A battle of wills
Undertaken with love
no clear winner
A stalemate

Recently we stopped
enroute to a friend’s home
lunch date scheduled

Forty-five minutes elapsed
We lobbed to and fro
merits of purchasing a
Janpanese Bonsai Maple

We were late for lunch

Peals of laughter
split the air
Our friend astutely observed
If a plant caused that much
discussion and consternation
we were in no way ready
to take on a puppy

No puppy has been brought
into our home
We do have
A beautiful new zen plant

City Park Springtime

City life glimpses:
Greyhound
shaggy grey and white fringe
hangs in its eyes; patiently
waiting for owner to finish reunion
friends not seen since winter hiatus

Mama and papa geese stand guard
over brood of goslings who
waddle and stumble drunkenly
along muddy river bank

Green herbs outside busy restaurant
fill small wooden garden boxes
wait expectantly for use in
fresh salad or to add delicate flavor
to delicious entrees

Pedestrians amble
jackets and sweaters unzipped
tied around waist
wrapped around shoulders
air warmer than expected

Young lovers pose along bridge
spontaneous selfie
quick kiss
lingering embrace
self consciously pull apart
as others approach

Toddler whizzes by on wooden strider
oblivious to any danger
excitement alive on his face
His mother several paces behind
awkward on roller blades
her staccato movement
sharp contrast to son’s
blithe freedom

Cyclists zip along
warning bell heard second before flash past

Dogs on leash
obedient
tugging
dodging other park users

A flurry of activity
as city dwellers shed winter cloak
welcoming spring

Reaching Out

How difficult it must be for you
Here I am
wallowing in my own self-pity
Poor me
Woe is me
What must it be like for you
How difficult is it to contain your anger
Or is it disappointment
Disapproval
Sadness

Sad for the loss of a life
you hoped to have
Two parents who live together happily ever after
Perhaps you’ve been disappointed in who I am
Seeing me as I am
flaws out there for all to see
Not acceptable
Not the person you had in mind

Maybe you feel you had to make a choice
Not so
I’ve never been given a chance
to argue my case
Do I have a case
It wasn’t me asking you to make a choice

Whatever your reason
it doesn’t matter
I’m sad
I can’t deny that
I want you to know
no matter what
I love you
I want only the best for you
I wish you well
Perhaps one day
I will fit into your life, too

Labels

Human need to define
Categorize
Create order
Make sense of things

An illusion

Labels can hurt
Pass judgement
Define incorrectly
Send one down a bumpy road
full of pot holes and booby traps
a road of confusion and missteps
a nasty detour
on the way to discovery of
personal identity

Names can point out
flaws
better left unseen
summon inner demons
roil insecurity

Classifications
decide life
Accept?
Or defy?

Label cannot be undone
once stated
but the world can be shown
own definition
of how it really fits

Cacophony

Skeletons jangle
dangle from a string
produce eerie music
wind chime of dead
relative stories
long gone
attempt to be heard

whispers of memories
shift bones
change beat
swing rhythm
recollection rises to surface
before recognition
slips away

elusive melody
mournful
an elegy
replaced by
quickened tumble of sound
lilting spill of noise
another story scrambling to be told
“don’t forget about me
I’m still here”

movement increases
bones compete to bring forth
their etude
music becomes cacophony!
indistinguishable chords
lyrical distortion
lost in the chaos!

skeletons untangle
slowly hang limp
a bump now and then
produces a click or a clack

hands are over ears

strange chorus deferred to another time
conductor must be found
for this otherworldly orchestra
to decipher
ancestor
notes

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.