Solidarity

sparkle

 

Alone, not enough

But what can be accomplished,

Standing together?

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Habitation

cactus and lichen

 

Between a rock and a

hard place is just enough

soil to sow a handful

.

of seedling dreams

and watch them

breathe life into stone.

 

So Many Bleeding Hearts

So many bleeding hearts

on display wherever I go.

Why, Lord?

Why so many?

Why don’t you

fix the economy,

destroy the Abuser,

deal Poverty its death-blow,

restore relationships,

and heal this land?

Why don’t you

do something?

What’s that?

You already did?

Oh, I see.

You sent me…

Well, what can I do?

I am only one!

Don’t you see all those bleeding hearts

hanging in the balance?

What’s that?

You want me to do what?

Just one.

One bleeding heart at a time.

With Your help.

Oh.

Just one.

Only one.

I can do that,

if you will help me.

You already are?

I remember now.

You are Big,

and You are Strong.

Which one, Lord?

Winding, Winding, Ever Winding…

Image courtesy of Brian Gaynor Photography

Winding, winding, ever winding.

Incessantly insistently stubbornly winding,

Path called to reluctant Feet.

As always, she could only see a few steps in front of her nose;

Obscurity wore the pants in this relationship.

Path liked to cloak itself in mysterious profundity,

Slinking under sheets of rain,

Shrouded in turban-cloths wound into mist,

Wrapping itself tightly into fists of fog.

And always, her feet followed at Path’s insistence.

Somewhere ahead, somewhere she hadn’t been yet, was

The Self that she sought in her dreams.

Always elusive, always fleeting,

She caught glimpses reflected from the microscopic mirror-specks of

Vapour hanging pregnant in the saturated air.

Fractured form and function,

Her shattered Self mocked with seven year’s bad luck.

And yet –

The Prophesy that drove her on, that fuelled her falter,

That cried through the whispers between leaves,

Promised a rainbow of Self fulfilled;

Quest beat with courage of steel in housing of paper.

So on Feet crept, blindly faithful,

Winding, winding, ever winding…

Illumination

Dark weaves a nightmare at awkward angles

And dares the Light to break in.

Dark blinds a viewpoint with tunnel-vision

And obscures all the places you’ve been.

Light strikes a match at the crucial moment

And shines through prison walls;

Light  blasts a path to the road not taken

And smiles when Darkness falls…