Life is like running with scissors
naked through freezing blizzards
Personal Journal
Pitch
Night
— the quiet of solitude
— the silence of loneliness
Humanity in roads
When I’m out and about, people are annoying idiots. When I’m home alone, all mankind is loving and good.
Every dawn
Dawn is the glow of opportunity, the light of a fresh start, the aurora of hope breaking open a new day.
Only bruises
Poetry allows
my soul to age gracefully
my mind to land softly
amongst the new gray hairs —
without it I’d have thunked
into my forties with
tail bone, funny bone
and spirit broken
Voyages
A journal is a journey — our own personal passages of self.
Torch
Grief is a fire
set to the heart —
burning some things away
keeping others aflame
Haunted
There are more ghosts in an unwell body than in an entire haunted mansion.
I accept you
Okay — I give in — I accept you — Middle Age
I am tired — I want to sit down — unrushed —
to read — and drink hot tea — and — Breathe
the number of years behind me — and ahead of me —
no longer concern me — mathematically or emotionally
I have come to rest in the sturdy arms of the Present —
where Time has been waiting for me — my whole Life
Rain & shine
Many things happen rain or shine, but rainbows are so special they happen
Floral
My mind is like a seed packet of assorted wildflowers — I get happiness and sadness and whatever else
Our path
A morning walk starts us off on the right foot for the day.
Notoolong
We are only but guests at Time’s tea party.