thunder rolling
as darkness slowly ebbs
toward a new day
low dark clouds smothering
the slumberous landscape
thunder growls as it advances
reaching into the soul
foretelling the rending winds
nothing safe in their path
the heaving destruction and pelting tears
the random bayonets of lightning
to leave behind an altered world
swept beyond the grasping heart
laying bare what little remains
the broken shards and heaven-soaked terrain
to every possibility
###
all these years later
she can’t help but notice
those moments when
she is still ready to run
ready to flee at a moment’s notice
ready to hide
to shrink into invisibility
ready to cower placate apologize submit
to be silent
ready to protect defend shield
guarded always
as the shadows continue to ricochet through her life
and yet somehow
the one who wrought those sad reflexes
must carry even more damage and suffering
worse
whether consciously or not
must live with the knowledge of what they did
and the legacy that lives from it
on so many levels
why do so many seem to spend
years and years of their lives in healing
and others spend those years
simply refusing to see
their own desperate need to heal?
###
Note: In writing the above, I couldn’t help but recall this one I wrote some years ago here.
let this whole day be my prayer
wrapped in the arms of an imagination
that loves so much it spills over
with endless beauty
unnoticed, pushed aside, destroyed
as the empty totems are so busily tended
day in day out
but let this whole day be my prayer
paused in stillness breathing the mystery
seeing all the startling details
as each dulcet note plays
for me for us
how and why did we ever turn our backs to this
it’s a pretty crazy game
everyone forced to play
can’t we just walk away, somehow
eyes, heart, breath, hand
know the truth and pant for it
right here underneath the detritus of our dementia
but each whole day was and is our prayer
each step a wordless devotion
###
the explosion of color
invites me
the scent
pulls me closer
leaning in
rapt in perfume
soft petals gently brush my cheek
the rush of first love
captures me again
###
Thank you to Eugi’s Causerie for this awesome prompt, “petals.”
i tread the soft path at river’s edge
where trees reach up
birds flitting between them,
the quiet and the joy
of this wild place brings me back
to wholeness,
it fills me.
my spirit sings and
spirit answers
lifting me up
carrying me on wings
soaring ever higher
past the leafy canopy of trees
above the ever-changing clouds
we sail through the infinite blue
and become the explosion
of stars and shimmering dust
and mystic tunnels of space,
so far beyond,
all there,
at the river’s edge.
###
Many thanks to Eugi’s Causerie for the delightful prompt, “soaring.”
My poem, “sabotage,” has been published on MasticadoresUSA. I am grateful to have some of my work included with other wonderful poets and authors there, including editor, Gabriela Marie Milton.
And, of course, I am truly grateful, as ever, to be read by you. Check out “sabotage” here:
https://masticadoresusa.wordpress.com/2021/07/25/sabotage-by-nancy-elliott/
I want to lie outside with you
in the deep of the night
lazily searching the stars
as they gaze down at us
the silence and the sounds of the dark earth
wrapping around we two like a cocoon
breathing the scents of summer on us
and in the drifting breeze
the air cool on our warm skin
our voices mere whispers under the dome of the galaxies
the stars dancing their mysteries
surely giving blessing as we gently stumble
awakened into the prayer
we finally offer
###
there used to be dreams
unbidden, effortless
the heart and the mind
roamed all the wilds like a fearless tiger
hungry and alive in every stripe of the tail
eyes wide open at the top of a cascade
of falling water or the parapet of a castle
pennants snapping over snowy mountains
there used to be dreams
irresistible, compelling
every muscle aching,
dripping with sweat and laughter
rounding each new bend
whether frigid with cold or
loose with fatigue
sandpaper skin soft as a cool mist
there used to be dreams
they came from nowhere and everywhere
driven by instinct, unbounded
nature’s children first and always
inside the man-built confines
stop to feel the frantic beating heart between us
insistent, full
we could dream again
###
these strings are tied to the pearly moon
taut and limp with the pull of the sea
humming out a thread of jazz bass in the winter deep
or funky folk on a cigar box guitar
maybe singing the long, sweet notes of summer
these strings they reach to the wind
flying along with the birds and the clouds
sweeping around this globe of colors
wet with rain or frozen with dizzy heights
or sailing amidst the whispered prayers persistently rising
these strings are still attached
though seemingly broken again and again
deliberately snipped or frayed to bare spindles with tension
somehow and always tied securely underneath
the heavy load of lonely emptiness
###
clouds sail across the sky
at first white, then softly grey,
as evening weaves her first tendrils.
the here and there of the day
slowly slip away,
muscles loosening
with a knowing ache,
thoughts meandering
in the prelude to dreams.
the sun fulfills its promise
with a hushed surprise,
opening night’s portals,
spilling the luminous hues of fantasy,
making invitation.
###
Eugi’s Causerie does it again with another delightful image and prompt, “twilight.” Many thanks, Eugenia!
earth sky air 