Heavy

sunset frost.jpg

Heartbreak hangs, a heavy Thing, unwelcome tribulation;

Frosted fangs shred flesh from bone in weighty proclamation.

Lamentations pierce the night as mourners bear its chill;

Earth’s foundations shift in flight as burdens overfill.

Affliction’s strain borne all alone would kill the bravest heart;

Eager souls and ready hands prepared to do their part

Will hold your heavy heartbreak high and share the bitter load;

So as you struggle with good-bye, we’re with you on this road.

 

*  My local community has been hit hard with the tragic loss of 15 of its loved ones after a horrible accident. It is hard to fathom what these families are enduring right now in their shock and grief. I am so proud of the ways in which people are supporting each other and loving each other through this terrible time of loss. To all the first-responders, medical staff, blood donors, coffee-pourers, blanket-bringers, and prayer warriors – thank you! May God richly bless your efforts! To all of the families and friends suffering through this awful season of hardship – the prayers and thoughts of everyone in Saskatchewan are with you all…  *

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The Great Unravelling

egyptian-mummy

Here lies 2018,

behind her glass barrier,

shrouded in mystery. The hand I stretch out

cannot quite hide its tremor. What will I encounter beneath

her folds? Curses or capital, fortune or

fright? Nothing is certain

but the compulsion to peel back

that first layer. Exhilaration battles anxiety. Where to start? There is the smell of death –

but also the tang of adventure and promise of new knowledge about her. And so

it begins.

Each moment, each day, each

month unravels more of her riddles until at last every

secret cavity has been divested of its contents. Some turns of the wrist

will reveal treasures,

things hidden from days of old, joyous to untie. Others

horrify, fill the nostrils with the stench of decay and loss –

even then she demands to be set free of her wrappings

layer by layer, day by day. Until she is free of her casement

the baubles and bones seem disjointed, unrelated,

entries in the catalog to be studied by greater minds. But

after her 365 day burial,

her treasures and triumphs, grievances and gloom

will be placed with care in the display cases of my heart. They are messy,

these artifacts. Random bits of broken pottery,

gems – uncut and unrecognizable,

scarabs encased in amber. When studied,

wrestled with,

polished to reveal their glory,

then and only then will she divulge her beauty. Taken as a

collection,

the years lined up in their coffins give context to my past,

enable me to excavate the Truth of who I am.

Whatever this year hides, this wrapped enigma,

for good or for ill

she is mine to enearth.

My fingers find the tattered fabric

and pull…

Image Copyrighted by Historylink101.com & found at Egyptian Picture Gallery.

Candy Crush

frozen cranberries.jpg

Embryo in frozen state, life that lies in whispered hush;

Seeds have time to contemplate prospective perks of  being crushed.

Future fruit that owes its taste to winter’s harshest, toughest blow,

Shows us nothing is a waste – frost breaks us down to help us grow.

Transformation

frosty spruce

Just as frost makes pearls from pain and covers plain with glory,

So your faith can glean the grain within your painful story;

When you feel the pinch of frost, the sting of cold rejection,

Know one day when it has lost, you’ll be a grace confection.

Foot Fetish

autumn resting place

Rest, the road exacts its Toll,

Take a load off wearied sole;

Close your eyes and breathe Life in,

Reflect on where your feet have been.

Confident, they marched with ease;

Terrified, ‘neath shaking knees

They stumbled on when doubtful days

Blocked e’en hope’s most brilliant rays.

Pause, let wand’ring feet sit still,

Exhale deep, let lungs refill;

Slow your pace, take time to stroll,

Rest is good for every sole.

Like Candy

taffy

He pours his voice like taffy.

Creamy folds undulate, smooth to silk in her

hungry ears. But when he pulls his words, stretches

the truth out of shape she, generously buttered, finds there is

nothing she can hold on to. Communication – hardened

and brittle –

shatters in the stillness; she is left with only her bitter

memories of how easily those empty calories

used to go down.

Accession

dangler

Death becomes her, highlights power

In this final golden hour;

It takes strength to grant demise

To Less, that More would be the prize.

Solemn spill, these dreams that fall,

Graveyard draped in leafy pall;

Wail she will, while pain is fresh –

But soon, her bones will gain new flesh.