To prepare, I find myself as usual,
Checking my list,
Wishing for more time at my disposal
I spent it frivolously, obviously,
Because I feel unready for the gathering
of family and friends,
Presents not purchased, wrapped.
The faux turkey not baked, no snacks!
I suffer all the angst around me,
People drowning in their distress.
They have done the same.
Rushing to and fro, they seek a savior.
I recount 60 Christmas’s past in my favor.
How perfectly I remember them as
Ready or not, they warmed my heart.
Troubles faded in the aura of goodwill
And cries of “good enough!” filled the air
Peace, Peace, Peace on Earth, we were there.
We knew no cares
For we did not live
With thought for the future
In childhood
But with present enjoyment
Embracing the joys
Of each new day.
Sadly we grow
Kissing childhood behind,
Leaving our angel wing prints
In memory.
Ode to Nelson Mandela
I cannot linger
When fair treatment falters
It’s warm embrace
Lost
I shiver in my oneness.
I cannot dwell on
Who defines greatness
But bask in the memory
Mindful
That I have lived in it’s time.
Today I am mindful of memories of warmer climes,
Warm breezes, cold lemonade and daisies.
I feel regret for things that no longer are
Or will be exactly so again.
As I focus on the memories, I press them to my heart
Crushing the sweet fragrance of their blooms and inhale
Ethos.
Photo: Val Letkeman
I have discovered Eunoia.
Perhaps it has discovered me.
A beautiful well-minded word,
It’s hard to tell but, it makes it’s Amazing Effort Involving Offering Understanding,
And sometimes in love it Yields.
*Every selected text blends when expressed excellently. (Example)
Book:Eunoia ~Canadian Author: Christian Bok
I wish I had realized earlier in life,
that I love spending time. I would have placed more value on it.
I would have spent it more efficiently,
I think.
Or perhaps not.
I have soared on the wings of time.
I have also realized that I have let others
steal, waste and kill my time.
Less time left now to love.
The snowy beast called Winter has returned.
Rising from the snowdrifts, he shakes his furry mantle.
Baring icy teeth at fearful frozen travelers, he smirks as
they lament the demise of Summer and share tales of her glory around
meager fires and hot chocolate with little marshmallows.
Art: Hontar~Deviantart
