Worth It?

a vision to enjoy,
breathe
rustic and pristine.
with an ounce of curiosity
I dream,
what stories are held within-

is this beauty, as she stands,
left for the taking,
or is someone keeping watch?
left to her own devises,
her strength must continue, remain hopeful in winter.
alone amongst the blanket of snow, she screams forlorn,
however you see her and she remains yours.
might she be worth the risk?

Attachment

hardened by what he’d seen; by life,
the reflection behind his eyes created a flutter within me

like a bee for honey, I was willing to work and eager.

I remained close.

Structured and protective, with experience as his guide, I longed for his reverence.

his strength I devoured silently but wanted to wrap myself in for all to see.

like many, I wasn’t chosen.

life is a mystery and voices often confused, so I remained hopeful – just in case.

yet the determination in his heart is wide, and he has much to attend to

and so it goes.

Ardently Golden

Winter waves hello
as Autumn nods goodbye,
life is complicated
causing us to ardently ponder who am I.

Earth is round and life is ever after,
but questions often birth discrepancy,
so a refresh is in order,
dormant becomes necessity.

Memories are mounting
and wistful becomes normal,
up ahead are life moments to cherish,
yet this golden causes pause over what nature has nourished.

Lips bring a smile to life – awaken
as the sun begins to set,
twilight, a comforting picture,
and this prairie points West.

Weeding Out

Imperative for growth to flourish appropriately,

It’s a sinking feeling when the time arrives,

And one we rarely want to admit to, because normalcy is comfortable.

Sometimes change masks itself as unknown, but we know.

One gut-wrenching pull at a time convinces us of its necessity, and the digging continues.

Beauty is stifled by its surroundings, however, she clings to what slowly kills her.

The world is full of what should be if we lean in: find grounding and settle.

Surely the weeding ends,

And the tools go back to the shelf.

Persuasion

glows does the moon
beyond the branches, which held verdant prisms of summertime,
rich with thoughts of what could be come daylight.

a star just to the north points towards a path I’m unsure of
but regrettably stare into,
the cold air touches the tears I shed for the prayers I’ve said,
nothing makes sense as the fairytale ends.

night, oh night, you shout at me so,
what shall come of my young soul; trapped in a body at the peak of her age
clouds bustle by, such hurry
I ponder what awaits
just past the horizon of a foolish wish, held back by this garden gate.

Musings

drove this afternoon,
so I wouldn’t have to listen to my thoughts
the music helped, but I keep thinking on how everything has changed.

no, not just foliage within the trees or in the depths of the ditches, but in all cases.
there’s an old homestead I wanted to take pictures of, my destination was set for the day. Go back and visit what makes sense, Aud.

as I stopped to turn in, a wedding was just letting out,
I smiled at their choice of location. Country, prairie and simple seems easy.
how fun to imagine his stare and all the dresses, the devotion and all the extras.

the children are safe after a weekend with their father, pleasantries were extended,
college life in full swing and real life looks good on them even from afar, babies no longer, maybe now momma
should breathe.

as night settles in – outside – I gave thanks for the light of the moon, peeking through the leaves still green,
as bright as a headlamp, it would seem, and brought with it an element of peace.

my prayers for you the same today as yesterday, and I’ll visit them again with each tomorrow.
yes, so much is changing and maybe it’s time,
yet I’m fully aware, even with faith in our Lord, I am frightened and full of sorrow.

If You’ll Allow It

You can hear the sound of this machine working
– you know you can –
if you’re as old as me,
and grew up in a small Midwestern town,
she was an occasional reality.
We heard about newfangled ways of serving others,
but what we had was good enough.
We understood how to fix her, simple trial and error,
no fuss or awkward searching – some days a little pat on the bottom, or the sweet whisper of, “come on baby” and she’d spring to life.
I smile because she was a dinosaur in the 80s,
yet we were proud.
Seems there is still plenty of good happening right here,
if you’ll allow it.

Summons

ringlets the color of copper pennies
arms stretched out into blue,
wildflowers in lilac are hidden
yet aching to appear.

a vision in giggles while the swoosh
of her skirt passes through,
blissful pockets of lush blankets,
as the sun summons her here.

now bound in heaven upon earth
swells abide in precise hues
did Aurora lead the way or
simply twilight, craving her near.