LIFE SPACE
Between birth and death
a horizon divides earth and sky,
a scant space called life.
Appearing deceptively expansive
in youth, in all truth,
each life space is
comparatively narrow
within time's enormity.
At birth, propelled into an
unfamiliar environment,
we are usually welcomed
and nourished by love.
We begin to adapt and thrive,
even though not all
situations are identical or ideal.
Life requires adjustments.
One's own particular circumstances
can greatly affect the ease
with which is able to build
his best possible life before being
involuntarily sucked out
of the life space by death.
There is a universal feeling
that our life space is insufficient.
It is.
STAINED GLASS SYMPHONY
As the music plays
panes of glass shiver
echoing an accompaniment.
Each fragment has its part
in the glorious symphony
and I have mine as well.
For when I hear and feel
the sounds surround me,
every cell in my body responds,
singing out with immense joy.
A DOOR
How strange to see a door
I had not noticed before,
camouflaged in gray rock
of a stone mountain block.
If I turn the knob will it open?
Maybe the knob is broken.
Something is holding me back.
Perhaps I should open it just a crack.
to see what is on the other side,
then close the door quickly and hide.
I didn't know there was a door.
An enormous barrier was all I saw.
I nearly walked away defeated,
my hope and confidence depleted,
until morning sunlight revealed
an outline that night concealed.
Now that I know it is there,
I must go forward in spite of fear,
face what is on the other side
and know, at least, that I have tried.
A POET
An indigo child,
the poems I write
fly free and wild,
are born at night,
a mix of memory
and imagination,
a fix of reverie
and fascination.
I reach for stars
to place upon a page,
some sweet as honey jars,
others full of weary rage.
I cannot help myself.
Words, compelling, enigmatic,
flow from my soulful self,
impulsive, automatic.
PRAYER AT THE WALL
An artist carved devoted souls
praying at Jerusalem's Wailing Wall
inside the curve of a conch shell
wrapped around them like a prayer shawl
signifying their unity and the commonality
of their prayer—to be part of a world
that at last is whole.
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
A single twig breaks, but the bundle of things is strong.
—Tecumseh
____________________
—Medusa, with many thanks to Linda Klein for her thoughtful, positive poetry today!
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
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that which was previously published.
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