So this was just as challenging as it was last year. So I leave you with the last two. Enjoy.
If I Can
If I can steal away
for a few precious moments
hold fast and take breath
into this full-throttle paced life
step back from the storm
watch it pass
there might be some space left
to create something new
out of the rubble
into something greater than I ever dreamed.
The Wooden Door
Two hearts stand guard atop
Weather worn wood
Outlived the lifetimes that carved it
Patient.
Hinges rusted paint faded
Once someone's dream house
returning to the woods now
Moss topped roof growing sprouts of birch trees
Weight weary
Abandoned or forgotten
The lives that once lived there
Gone.
Still the door
Stands watch.
Splintering
Waiting for someone new to enter
That never does.
Wrecking balls and junkyards
unless the woods reclaims it
as one of it's own.
One breath at a time: musings, poetry, reflections on and off the mat
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