Not To Be Found

The words have an empty ring and they don’t really mean a thing without love…~ The Carpenters (remake of Love is Surrender)

I notice the water is choppy

in my inner lake this morning.

An hour that usually dives

into the place of pure

surrender, lying on a night-

beach in Atacames, ocean

black ceaseless stretching

under the piercing star-lit

colander of constellations

ends

abruptly.

Even the dawn lacks glamour,

just a gradual lightening

of autumn-silenced morning.

I reach for the doorknob

just as a feathered body clunks

against the window. In the next

room, the light pours out

before my fingers touch

the switch.

I drag

my expectations as I examine

every gift: careful

scrutiny

of the betrayed child.

How to allow

the crashing

mishaps

strange coincidences

the funhouse distortions

reflecting my quest

for perfection

that will finally grant

safe harbor?

This, too, I heed

include

all

as I yield

once more to now.

Inspired by #OctPoWriMo Day 1 Surrender

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

3 thoughts on “Not To Be Found”

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