Suspended . . .
in that no-man’s land
between
choice presented
and indecision,
no more.
Kalimera
She stirs under clean white sheets
As the early Athens sun
Saturates the room in soft pink,
Mocking the darkness that hovers …
teases, descends.
The sun will always rise
The sun will always set
Caught in the inevitable so and so
But she knows
The warm pink glow
Must prevail in the everyday
For she has been sitting
In shadows
For far too long
iPhone Nostalgia
A song pulses,
transcends,
reverberates within my soul
As I gaze through rising steam,
Courtesy of a mug of tea —
for reflection purposes.
Empty the device of photos . . .
On to another
A fresh start, purging of the past
Two years. Where have they gone?
Onward to the new memories,
Not forgetting the present
In the process
The song changes.
It’s a new one, I’ve never heard.
A wise purchase.
After-Work Drink
Writing in the dim glow of the moon,
early evening’s light,
twilight,
Red wine for unwinding a tight mind
full of words not my own.
The twilight is mine to find my voice
The dark is where I find depth . . .
I write these lines,
though I can barely see.
Eventually.
Fleeting Sunshine
Sun-kissed skin scalds
Like the sound of goodbye
Golden vacation leads back to
Reality —
What if it were sweeter
than fleeting days of sunshine?
Can you make it so?
In the beauty of this
Moment?
A Moment on the Mat
Breath,
fully satiated. Saturated
with joy
full bliss when breathing
is deep, mindful,
Light in the heavy clouds of past and future
Focused on one
sound, movement
In, out,
Sensual in its plundering
of soul
full bliss
One moment fully realized.
Airport Blues
Coffee sips
Sweeter after a missed flight
Too early for anger.
Solace found in its bitter gold
A sigh . . .
Another sip.
Pull out the red plastic. Deep breath.
One more sip. Heals,
A smile emerges
Back on track.
Red plastic a little lighter.
Electrical Storm
Hiding from the elements
Making sure to keep away
From the windows,
The windows,
More frightening than the doors
For they break more easily,
Transparent. So the dark comes through
But they open us, open
Eyes, to the light
To beauty as well as fear,
More useful than the doors
That hide dark away
Out of sight out of
Time
But transparent we must face
The storm, the truth.
Writing in Wait
In the waiting is where
Inspiration resides
Moments click past, initial anticipation
Dulls to frustration.
But moments in wait remain
Moments of life, and
Must be treated as such.
And so we write, in wait.
The Sound of Silence
I’ve been blogging for just over three years now at freelancingtofreedom.com, and my favourite part about it thus far is the opportunity to connect with other writers from around the world.
I’ve always written poetry, but until recently, it has stayed hidden in random journals and on snippets of blank paper. Not anymore. The poets I’ve met through my blog have inspired me to branch out and start my own space for poetry. So thank you, most wonderful writers.
Words in White Spaces is an expression of life through words, sounds, and silence. The silence, the spaces between the words, between what’s said – that’s where depth and meaning exist.
Namaste, my friends.
Words In White Spaces 