Moody

smooth4

She is the perfect hostess
Like an elegant kimono
She lays a silken path beneath us
Smoothing all ripples
Encouraging our journey

smooth3

…but don’t trust her…

wave

She will soon forget her courtesy
And like the capricious entity she is
Will rage, upsetting and contrary
Flicking negligent shrugs
To swamp and shudder the weary mariner

…Michigan is a flighty lake…

…hidden Canada

silver

The leaves shimmer with silver
Lighter, more ethereal than before
This is another reality
One where humanity blends rather than dominates

The air hints of fragrances
Less poignant than honeysuckle and rose
Even the flowers understand
That subtlety is needed

The leafy perfume
 Whispered and verdant
Hangs over the water
Brimming with life and potential

…the hidden Canada…

Bubblegum and Steel

gail

With each barb thrown
She grew stronger
Her gentle façade
Camouflaged a core of steel
That was tempered
With life’s hurts and heartaches

As they slashed and poked
She bent and folded
Standing her ground without seeming to
Springing back to form as they turned away
Unaware of her endurance

Through Life’s onslaught
Her bubblegum laugh would sing out
Not loud or brassy
But consistent and true

For she was one of those rare few
Designed not to conquer or be conquered
Rather she brightened and buoyed
Refreshing all those lucky enough
To be touched by her

— Gail, you will be so very missed —

95

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