Mist, Fleeting, Fog and Eternity

September 10th 2023

A series of four tanka poems using the following words: mist, fleeting, fog, and eternity.

Tanka One

Through the morning mist

I beg for eternity

from a life - a fog -

fleeting into the quiet

of my lone earthly body.

Tanka Two

When eternity

soon breaks into fleeting mist,

I, in my own mind,

must step aside and allow

morning fog to pass me by.

Tanka Three

The fog must leave us,

severed from eternity,

dispersing into

fleeting mist, and returning

our souls to the earth below.

Tanka Four

How can a life be

a fleeting eternity?

Like fog forming as

we sleep, yet becoming mere

mist; clearing in the morning.

A Sacred Voice

August 26th 2023

On a lone summer walk, where

the leaves of oaks and other trees

built a blanket, a canopy,

insisting on protecting me,

came a voice I did not recognize.

It spoke with compelling strength,

and, like the trees, reminded me

that despite my stress and worry

the earth will soon bring peace;

from this solemn place I will arise.

Rainbow Muse

August 23rd 2023

Sometimes your eyes are like the sea;

of swirling crystal blues.

Sometimes they are like honeybees;

of sweetness they peruse.

Sometimes they are like redwood trees;

of western forest hues.

Sometimes your eyes are storms, indeed;

of clouds, the rain ensues.

But when the stormy sky recedes,

of now a rainbow muse,

I realize as your eyes find me,

with love your look imbues.

Love, Aunt Maddie

August 20th 2023

Collect the rocks, skip the stones,

and plant the seeds, row by row.

Feel the rain, soft and slow, and

to the critters, listen close;

they speak of life beneath our bones.

So, my darling, as you grow,

remove your shoes and dig your toes

into the thriving dirt below, for

if you learn the ebb and flow

of what you cultivate and sow,

then never will your heart erode;

your love will never decompose.

Into One

August 13th 2023

We find ourselves within two waves,

diffracting, obstacles in our way, and

we converge, crashing into one, then

dancing in our turbulence, unafraid.

Of separate swells, we amalgamate,

uniting, creating new terrain, and

we lose sight of where one ends and

the other begins; a significance found

only by ourselves within one wave.

Honey

August 10th 2023 - A short collection of haiku poetry.

Honey I

I love yous written,

scattered in golden patterns,

of a honeycomb.

Honey II

Raw, sweet like honey,

are moments shared between us

and the buzzing bees.

Honey III

Dark eyes turned golden,

sweetened by the light of dawn;

shimmering honey.

Honey IV

You were my honey

combing through old photographs;

us in black and white.

Honey V

Raw honey pooling

as the sweetest taste of you

sits upon my spoon.

Foreclosed

August 7th 2023

At first, I did not notice

the way you were draining me

of every ounce of happiness

and dollar, dime and penny.

You agreed to my one heart,

and for my heart, I plead,

as I stand within its vault,

now dark and cold and empty.

As I foreclose on this love,

to save what is left of me,

prepare yourself to vacate

and leave my heart to be free.

Sharpened Tongues

July 31st 2023

We own the words inside our minds,

but are slaves to words we’ve said,

so we dream of manners to rewind,

and retract said words instead.

We pray the scars will heal in time,

and eventually we’ll mend,

but forget the way words tie and bind

in anguish ‘til the end

Chemical Imbalance

July 29th 2023 TW: addiction

We creep slowly towards death

with every inhale of chemicals

built to enjoy or suppress

feelings and thoughts that

we cannot express; without

it, we are lost and broken.

It starts in the evenings,

then joins us in our beds

and before long, they can

smell it upon our breath

and we adopt this life

because the risk and the freedom

feels better than facing

our demons. We tread in

this water, swirling around us,

and we drown, breathless,

because what began as

suppression, arose to addiction

and we can no longer

save ourselves. They

call us junkies and potheads

and demand that we

‘clean up our lives’

but they’ll never understand

that addiction is far more complex

and if we could stop it, we would.

See, even I can attest,

that the root of our problems

is not in our heads

but rather a world that refuses

to understand what makes us

different, special and unique.

But, I digress. If a world

forces its inhabitant to drown

what they feel..

why do we question

when a ‘good girl’

becomes an addict?

In a Dance to Death

July 25th 2023

Oh! - The possibility

stretched across the glassy wings

of a blue-ish dragonfly,

dancing in the summer breeze.

But a surprise transpires,

for the insect now to be

nothing more than a quick meal;

a swift challenge of new wings.

The Martin, grey and ruffled,

clumsy yet formidably

aware that he must survive this;

how else will he come to be?

Surely he will soon become

composed of her glassy wings;

a blue-ish compilation

of lustrous possibilities.

Before the Rain

July 24th 2023

In shallow waters

I rest my legs,

weary from the burden

of looming trees

and thunderous clouds;

a storm in approach.

The creek sings to me

in quiet ripples over

polished stones,

and the kisses of

minnows brush against

my calves, softly.

A white moth, stark

against the grey skies,

floats above me,

weaving about in

the heavy air.

Soon, it disappears into

the ferns along the bank,

and the minnows

disperse, returning to

their homes.

And then, it rains.

I Met You in a Dream, and Left You in a Nightmare

July 23rd 2023

I slipped into a nightmare

unknowingly, yet willingly,

for I thought it was just a dream, or

possibly, a memory

but memories compiled

of moments between you and me

don’t often keep me restless

with dreams while I sleep.

And when I wake, I find

the nightmare not to be

much more than my own eyes

staring back at me, as

a reflection of what was,

and what is not, mirroring.

What we have lost leaves me

in a sleepless agony.

Fair-Weather

July 19th 2023

Becoming fair-weather

is not by nature’s design

and yet I falter back and forth

between loving you

and braving a storm

much stronger than my own.

Ashore

July 17th 2023

You are like the morning mist

formed of an oceanside;

slowly, without warning,

above the earth, we collide.

In the same way you form

upon the morning tide,

the moon directs your love

and soon, you subside.

To Breathe You In

July 15th 2023

In attempts to subdue

innate movements

inspired by the thought of you,

I lose a freedom;

one I had yet to find.

You are life,

you are the air I breathe,

you are the world around me.

In Poisoned Soil

July 12th 2023

The end is planted, like a seed,

in the space between us and

we search for love in a field

of corrupted soil; earth

incapable of cultivating a beauty

such as the love we once knew.

As we lay, side by side,

drenched by a rain,

poisoned by affliction,

our ending grows.

Of Clay and Mortar

July 10th 2023

The Fears are in

the walls we built

- brick by brick -

and these walls,

they’re closing in.

Babble, Kind, Small & Yes

June 14th 2023

Haiku I

A river babbles

and kindly it awakes a

small yes from within.

Haiku II

Yes, I leave kindly -

without a small trace - the shore

of a babbling brook.

Haiku III

I hear this kind yes;

a small songbird babbling on,

Where is my lover?

Tanka I

Small as the brook who

babbles, ‘till nightfall departs.

Yes, she whispers to

me; in kindness she imparts

a place to rest, without her.

Tanka II

Yes! I hear you speak.

But words are without meaning;

incoherently

babbling on and on to me

in small feats you’ll never reach.

Tanka III

Nestlings find solace

in small branches of The Oak,

yes, babbling on to

one another when kindly

welcomed to their nested home.

Prompt: Write a poem about nature using the following words: babble, kind, small, & yes.

Love|Ivy

June 4th 2023

A cape of love, draped

as comfort and warmth.

Stop shaking.

“I am just cold.”

Or is it fear?

Fear of the unknown;

a fear of losing you.

But love is ivy

and choking out my last breath,

it suffocates me.

In a Squall

June 2nd 2023

Pain as small

as a mustard seed

can move trees

that seem to be

rooted in strength

and understanding…

but how much

can I muster?

This strength;

it fails me.

Wind as strong

as you and me…

but understand!

I do not contain

the ability

- the capacity -

to believe your eyes

when you say

that you love me.

I am not strong,

and you are the wind

between the trees.