This was a woman
crouching in readiness
for the coming of happiness
hitting her
like a rich cream pie in the face. . .

mugging for the camera,
evoking the chimera
of the racer she’d been
and the fit little gymnast
determined to learn
to flip, swing, leap, and spin,
still quite grounded
in hopes
perhaps quite unfounded,

of the times to come
that would never bring
certain dreams
to fruition. . .

This was a woman–
core full of grief,
heart full of sun–
waiting to bring her life
to re-generation,

having mastered
(or so she thought)
the art
of introspection,
this was a woman
who wanted her love
+++++ to spread
++++++++++ far and wide,
+++++ and long
+++++ to carry on,

she wanted to nurture
a much greater clan,
loved, happy, and strong
by wielding her own special nature,
as well as the fruits
of what she had learned
from the path she was on.

This IS a woman
I’m afraid,
now is gone–
after so much
loss. . .
challenge. . .
and disillusion–

IS she?

Is she still here, somewhere?
Does she yet reside
in some hidden lair,
inside of me?

Is she really just
the me
I’ve always known
and still know,
but now
+++++ sadder and happier,
+++++ and older and wiser,

And am I,
have I continuously —
been still striving to be
not just what will bring
a feeling of joy
to me personally,

but which will bring
my own special strength
full into
the World’s own employ,
as was the Greater Intent
from my very first day–

But, how could that BE?

Is not
that bright-eyed gal
in the photo I see
destroyed and
long gone?

Riding the winds in my mind
as it chases this question,
can render me dizzy,

As I seek
to bring forth quick an answer–
but then,
I want to be sure
I can trust
in its accuracy. . .

Let me see. . .
that gal in the photo. . .
crouching quite low
on her skis
in the snow,
so happily,
tongue-in-cheek posed
among tall mountain trees. . .

Oh, such joy!
What UNcoy simplicity,
of this girl
who at one time
by her mom
was deemed pretty,

having crossed paths
with a boy
who made me
just laugh–

and who,
to my life,
brought live electricity. . .

and an unprecedented
sense of peace
and love
and security. . .

he never wanted
to do or say
anything that would hit me

but one boy,
wonderful though he may be,
still cannot do everything
for me,

So, I know,
I’ve got to pick up on my own,
feeling uncomfortably
rootless and wingless,
even though I stick
with him
and he
sticks with me. . .

I’ve still
l got to bring forth
Deep Life from me,
streaming out
using a new-to-me
kind of creativity,
and not just in the comfortable modes
of my normal proclivity. . .

some time
I know I can find
of the deep, broad Life
a hid mother lode
that charges the cells
in my blood and lymph nodes. . .

I’ll have to be smart,
to see clear,
and to listen
to my whole body
and heart,
so I let
my so-stubborn ears
finally hear,

and I will need
to keep an eye out
for those omens
and portents
that may come my way,

to guide me to a place
where I flow ever free,
and my work
finally kicks
into stride,

so I’ll know–

I belong to the greatest abode
of Infinity,
and I will shine so bright. . .

I just might
with the very brightest stars
hold court
with great mutual joy,

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s