The God Heart

Playfully
she folded her hands
around his
proposing marriage
(though he was
almost a generation removed)
then just as quickly
distanced herself
from the thought
tossing a little laugh
over her shoulder

This wisp of a child
turned her back early
on convention –
instead
held court with
small wooden hearts
special stones, crystal rocks
gentle songs and
a thousand dried rose petals

Stood
against the wind
cradled each gentle heart (as one
after another
they found her doorstep)
providing sanctuary
to them all. She
was their champion

She only seemed
to falter
stepping into
the slipstream of life
how strong
the delicate willow
bending
in the wind!

Like the maypole
soon
her champion’s colors
will herald spring

Similar Posts

  • Healing Fractures

    Pieces lay scattered in anger across the breakfast room floor The bowl and pair of candlesticks had been an anniversary gift from my grandfather to my grandmother – for me, only images in photographs and stories In some small way being their conservator enabled me to physically connect with them However – when the candlestick…

  • Nutcracker

    Where is the nutcracker who stands sentry by the front door? or tiny train going round and round looking for Christmas? small fairy sled that’s carried generations of rosy cheeked babes sits in an upstairs corner – waiting. the cats wait too – lazing in a slice of winter sun. Now grown children pop chocolates…

  • The Enemy Within

    Door closed Maisie bounded from behind the sofa fresh with the scent of winter we measure the days and hours in Maisie time Locked in the moment he shrugged off a scraped and bloodied face – oblique commentary on a parallel universe Mud and grass stains are part of the game – then bundled to…

  • And The Word Went Out

    Her worn collar long faded and stained used to be hot summer pink with lime-colored palm trees dancing ‘round Set against a pale yellow-white coat – she might as well have been wearing diamonds Later came the grass and mud, chocolate (swiped pastry) and a few garden remnants… over time each stain became an embedded…

  • Irony

    We never wanted two cats and a dog the white picket fence and the station wagon The world waited just over the horizon Odd isn’t it how our fondest memories are of kids and dogs two old cats rule we no longer need yet have two station wagons all a part of creating a place…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *