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wall

At first glance
 She seems fragile
Her rippled shadow
Insubstantial as a windblown reed or dragonfly’s wing
But look deeper…

Do not imagine that strength is bound in muscle or bone
It is her Spirit that stands tall against the world
She points at obstacles
With a pink, gauze-wrapped finger
Declaring her prerogative, her will
Tenacious and inevitable
Walls will crumble

 

Our Path

the path

The Path requires forward motion
So we forge on
At times, hands clutching hands
At others, fingers simply touching

Inevitably, the Path splits
The left route pulling him
The right calling to me

If he tugs harder
And I go left with him
Is it no longer my Path; simply his?

If I tug harder
Causing him to veer with me
Will he yearn for the Path not taken?

If we diverge
Going our separate ways
There will be no more ‘us’
…only him and her

If we compromise
Creating a center Path
Do we essentially please neither?
And with that compromise
Do we grow, or are we diminished?

Is the goal
To walk the Path
With his hand in mine
Or is to arrive at the destination?

I will not ‘follow’ the Path
For it is not a map or blueprint designed to guide

Rather it is a chronicle of choices
That can be viewed
Only when looking back

Cherish

CherishAge changes love
 I know that infinite possibilities
No longer await – if they ever really did

For my time with you is finite
And ever shortening

The fire and passion that defined my love
Is now more lukewarm and comforting
It has morphed into soft down
That enfolds, always touching

I now understand
 Love is shortlived
For life is shortlived

And much more precious because of it

The River

morning river

The frogs are singing their scratchy song
Full of clicks and bellows
A lovely counterpoint to the quiet ‘thum, thum, thum’ of the engine
Her hull cleanly slicing through the reflections
Breaking the glassy surface
Leaving behind a trail of swells and bubbles
That dissipates almost as soon as it’s created

 Today, the river is a kind and courteous host