Show Me A Sign

My reality’s slipping, lost in the fog on such a grey day. ~ Jesse Colin Young

Even my soul light is hard 

to reach on this overcast day. 

Flickering dimly on the low-

ceilinged warehouse 

of my consciousness.

Flat and dreary

basic bricks stacked sloppily

in the industrial zone.

Closed on Sundays. 

And so consumed

by longing, I walk

with my zealous 

heart.  On this branch,

a wren alights 

to trill out her thrilling 

multi-syllabic prescription below

a hawk catching updrafts. Chittering

cascades of cicada chirrups

coming in waves.  A bright yellow

goldfinch sings a three-note

question before she feeds.

A mysterious shape precisely outlined

by a great blue skimmer as two yellow

moths flutter together fast zigzags

of bright color in the green grasses

by the water.  And the lake is filled

with enormous clouds, puffy white

with gray at the bottom collecting

tomorrow’s rain, the storm

dogging me like a truth

that must be revealed, but

I’m reticent and clinging

to answers that blind me

to the vital questioning. 

The medicine all around me

and I never comprehend

in my sensory-deprived

kowtow to reality.  


Inspired by: zealous, dog, kowtow, basic, reticent

This poem’s title and quote are from the lyrics of Jesse Colin Young’s song, California Suite, Part 1: Gray Day


Grandchildren’s Joy

“Innate creativity of life in action…enable these new habits to be stabilized and inherited.” — Rupert Sheldrake

This thin line of misgiving

is coloring my day gray.

Just below the murky surface

lurks something that has been stirred up,

threatening all of my hope.

I feel an urge to binge watch

an old television series that I very purposefully

missed during its heyday.

Instead, I close my eyes

and ask: who feels threatened?

Who feels anxious and disturbed?

I place footprints on my floor

and I walk back among the generations

of my ancestors, looking for the ripple

of disquiet.  Its origin lies

far back in time.

Strange that it could suddenly

reach out for me

like a tsunami exploding

over the eerily abandoned shore.

I am caught exploring

exotic treasures revealed by the trough

of the receding wave.

This niggling unease is a gift

from my commitment to evolve

so why do I want to crawl back into bed

and pull the covers over my head?

Even when I know

that I can burrow through the roots

of this tree and apply the healing balm

end the misery so many generations have suffered,

I pause, frozen.

This homeostasis, like a tyrannical ruler

forcing each of us to remain

in the pain and the agony,

can be coaxed to a different place

with help from above.

Invisible dimensions stand ready

to come if we would only beckon.

And still it takes every ounce

of my courage and commitment

as a mother and grandmother

to crook the tiniest of fingers

and whisper, help, for the children’s sake!

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: above