Dancing Echoes

Beats Stumbling Around in Silence


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Loss

For certain memories 
time stands still
and for a moment
the pain is searingly fresh
The loss makes you realize
what matters most
An aching reminder
of what it means
to truly love

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #242: Time


7 Comments

Transitions

Life’s transitions
Freedom from this mortal world
Tears role down my face

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #236: Freedom and #237: Transition


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Otherness

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Out of the brine,
the earliest seems so other
Ordovician beauty lies
in the eyes of the beholder
Is it desire or rote primitive urges
that keep this living relic
part of our current web
To be reborn,
as the 450 million year old villain
of our motion picture nightmares
And what do they see of us
do we appear as angels or incubus?
After all,
We crawled out of the ocean too

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #228: Otherness


3 Comments

Tourist

Feeling like a tourist in my own country
Stoned by words of hostility and division
Having to check my patience while struggling
To keep my sense of retribution in check
Because if I allow the malignant cancer of hate
To take hold of my soul
Then I become the problem
And not the solution

In response to patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #216: America and #217: Tourists


3 Comments

The Point


A point of light
For a dark night and rough seas
No longer shines

We should all strive to be more Charlie. He was a true force of nature. RIP my friend.

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #215: Point

 


5 Comments

Ashes

Ashes
Shattered into a billion tiny pieces
S
cattered in the wind as ripples shift
Along the vast expanse of time
Giving the illusion of super novas
Twinkling in the afterlife

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #212: Expanse and #213: Illusions


6 Comments

Mothers

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A uniting force
Keeping mewlings safe and sound
Neighborhood mothers

While I was lucky to have been raised by an incredible mother, I was also privileged to have grown up in a neighborhood of warrior mothers. I had a sense of a sound safety net. That I would never go hungry. My skinned knee would be immediately doused in Bactine in front of whichever house I crashed my bike. A snow day meant making the rounds of homes for hot chocolate in between hours of sledding or skating. Some mother was always looking out for me -or relaying inappropriate behavior if warranted. Born during the depression, that generation of mothers had a rough childhood so they made sure we didn’t. Almost all the warrior mothers of my childhood are gone now as that generation fades into fond memories.

In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge: Mothers.