Sun Shower Surprise

Sun showers erupt
cooling and refreshing all
unexpectedly.

Nature will surprise
sometimes for good sometimes not
out of our control.

The glistening leaves
well satisfied broadcast smiles.
Maybe I can too.

The Truth of It

The future unknown,
though I strive to be upbeat
things can get scary.

I am now stable.
Given the alternative,
this is a good thing.

Yearning still remains
for a body that enjoys
full health and wellness.

Support Network

 

Family matters,

ensuring continuance,

also well being.

A support network

essential for survival

is the species norm.

Problems will arise

when what should be inherent

is in absentia.

If Preference Counts

 

My world assessment,

if limited to headlines,

would be dark indeed.

Darkness does exist,

history will remind us,

but light prevails too.

I would much rather

embrace life’s promise blindly

than get mired in gloom.

An Uneasy Balance

lawn mower rumble
lingering scent of cut grass
tidiness restored

whirring weed whacker
landscape principles honored
nature’s wildness trimmed

untrammeled nature
not always a benign force
uneasy balance

I Am Better but …

I fell once again.
The resulting concussion
sent me to ER.

Injury addressed,
I grasp how vulnerable
I am to more loss.

I negotiate
reality and hope’s link
fraught with much tension.
 

The Butterfly’s Gift

 

Graceful and nimble,
the butterfly glides by me
from leaf to blossom.

My unspoken plea,
please come sit on my shoulder,
remains unheeded.

I then feel grateful
for beauty displayed with ease
at no cost to me.

A Bereaved Mother Speaks

Bereavement etches
pain at still being around,
a survivor’s guilt.

How does one assuage
grief, disbelief and sadness
in a survivor?

Find the path to love
authentic and generous,
the truest honor.

It Happens Sometimes

It happens sometimes.
The days come when I feel robbed.
The unfairness galls.

Gloom will grip tightly,
plunging me into envy
of the healthy ones.

My will soon devolves
into melancholic grief
with its lockjaw vise.

I Speak For

In a sacred trust,
I speak the unspoken thoughts
of muted voices.

Both fear and hope lurk
behind a shield of silence
that guards against loss.

For the hearts and minds
receiving these words I grant
their truth’s expression.

A Broken Hallelujah

 

In a heart’s pure cry,

soaring notes seek redemption

while in brokenness.

Everlastingly,
the search seeks to find reasons

for the brokenness.

Confirm love’s true reach.

The plea rises and tumbles

out of brokenness.

Holding On

 

It seems I forget

my previous healthy state,

fooled by new normals.

My expectations

already lowered suffer

a further decline.

I seek to retain

my grasp of how good health feels,

not just to make do.

Figuring It All Out

 

Some people will claim

they have figured it all out,

and perhaps they have.

A big mystery,

the human experience,

it seems so to me.

Treating others well,

aiming to be of service;

that, I understand.

Gifts

 

An egret glides by.

Enthralled, I watch from above

my gift from nature.

I hear then the news.

Snow has buried the MidWest,

their gift from nature.

Whether hot or cold,

nature’s offerings beguile

a receptive mind.

Am I Really Brave?

Seeking bravery
when fear is overwhelming,
is that being real?

I feel like a wimp
if I focus on my fears
but they do exist.

Am I then a fraud
to talk braver than I feel
because I have to?

Their Cure and Mine

An MSer said,
"I found the solution.
I can walk again."

Noting what was said,
I adopted what I could
filled with optimism.

The fix did not come,
taunting and ephemeral
just beyond my grasp.

Stealing Walt's Lines

Walt Whitman said it.
“Do I contradict myself?"
I ask the same thing.

Sometimes I am up.
Other times I sure am not.
“I am large,” he said.

The poet explained
he “contained multitudes” and
I guess so do I.

The Human Will

The disease course looms
under shrouds of mystery
suppurating gloom.

Whatever solace
one can grasp and hold on to
affirms life’s value.

Courage will prevail.
Human will stubbornly seeks
lasting hope and joy.

Transformation

Borges spoke of his
blindness as an instrument
of transformation.

From miserable
circumstances may emerge
things deemed eternal.

The writer’s wisdom
spurs me to find gifts in loss,
my own alchemy.

The Dream

 

Gossamer petals

suffused with the light of life

enchant with beauty.

Delicate, fragile,

renewed through nature’s cycle,

blossoms buoy hope.

Arid burnt out fields

present surviving flowers.

If them, why not me?