Today She’s Finally Letting Go

Today she’s finally letting go,

She’ll give her past the slip;

Regrets like raindrops gently flow

From empty fingertips.

naked branch.jpg

Hefty while she clutched them tight,

These burdens, weightless, slide;

Regarded from her newfound height,

She fancies they were lies.

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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.

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.

 

 

 

I, Rapunzel

Rapunzel

I, Rapunzel, clutched the tighter to my golden mane;

You, the wooer, prince and fighter, struggled to unchain

All those strands that held me captive to the distant past;

Strangled hopes and maladaptive dreams I had amassed

Like treasure chests with broken stocks, reduced by time to rust;

Death had killed my golden locks, and crumbled them to dust.

‘Let down your hair!’ your battle cry resounded in the dark;

But tendons tightened, terrified of barren branches; stark

My thoughts, unclothed my heart, as hope dared warm my blood;

One by one upon the start, and then a torrent flood

Descended in a golden cloud, until I stood unveiled –

Beneath my feet, a golden shroud, where former visions paled.

And now I wait, a bare-skinned maid, my Prince has won me fair;

For with the spring, I’ll grow new braids, fresh dreams will crown my hair.