Tag Archives: #wdys

I was once wild…

I was once wild…

I was once wild…

Roaming across
vast open plains.
At times hungry, waiting
for my harem’s return.

Sunbaked beneath
Endless captive skies,
I ruled my domain
with absolute authority.

My young apprentice
watching me through light,
distorted in the heat
rising from her scorched skin.

Motionless amongst
the tall grasses
bend to her will in the
slight Saharan breeze.

Not hidden…
For I am aware
of his full intention,
transfer through succession

The next generation,
patient, in youthful impatience,
waiting for the sun to
rise on a new King.

To you, that cages my freedom,
we are not different!
Protecting one’s pride to
precariously hold onto power.

Our moment is fleeting,
the sun rising and setting
on a conclusion as inevitable
as the rhythms of home.

Kingdoms rise and fall, but
Mother’s hands remain steady,
continually reshaping, and
redefining balance.

It is a fool’s errand
to push against her nature,
for her ever-shifting moods
recognize it’s part of nature too.

Once, we were all wild…

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Galloping Gossip Bitties

Galloping Gossip Bitties

Neigh!” Annie brayed, “Look at Black Nellie over there.”

“Thinks she’s all the neigh strutting her hind quarters like some little philly.” Cinnamon replied.

“I heard she couldn’t hold her road apples at the fair last week.”

“I know, dropped them right there with the kiddies looking on, how embarrassing! N-n-n-neigh!

“Shhh, shhh, hold your neighs girl, she’s trotting our way!”

Neigh.” the two ponies greeted Nellie with pinched mouths.

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Darkness Falls

Darkness Falls

darkness falls
inside my head
shades the world
in thoughts of dread
light obscures
then fades away
with no escape
my nerve ends fray

the things I put
into my vein
suppressing demons
masking pain
could only yield
a brief respite
return the beast
the endless night

at the edge
of ever more
to find release
to quell the roar
please don’t mourn
my final deed
from the darkness
for which I’m freed

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A Common Fate

A Common Fate

Carbon floods the atmosphere,
Blankets the cerulean veil.
Oceans, rainforests exploited,
Industrial Man, tipping the scale.
Smothered and left gasping,
Mother Earth’s lungs begin to fail.
Rush headlong towards extinction,
Forsaken and unable to exhale.

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Rotary Dial

Rotary Dial

Kalee looks at the pink box sitting on Grandma’s end table. The battery from her iPhone 15¾ had died and she’d left the supercharger at home.  She need to call Zack and leave him a message but all she could do was stand there staring in confusion at the antique. Finally, she pick up the handset, although she called it the pink thingy connected to the swirly wire, and listened to the buzzing sound. She started calling numbers into the transmitter but the buzz continued. Next she began to push down on the number through the holes on the rotary dial. When that didn’t work she tried pushing harder in frustration. Still nothing…

It’s amazing these people survived, she thought as she stood in line waiting to pay for her new $87.45 charging adapter and cable.

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Before I die…

Time...

At 29, I wrote a list of the things I wanted to do before I die…

It was long and varied and even as I crossed items off, it continued to grow. At 74 years and 3 months, and just diagnosed with terminal cancer, I may never complete that list. We may be reticent to admit it but no one has the time to do everything they want, and I will not mourn for things left undone. I choose to celebrate that which I have been fortunate to experience and the friends and colleagues whose paths crossed mine along the way; they are the treasures I will take with me from this world.

Until the day I seek redemption before my maker, I will continue to live and maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the time to cross a couple more items from my list before the clock winds down to its final tick.

Disclaimer: For the record, I am not 74+ years old yet and I do not have cancer. These six fictitious sentences were inspired by Sadje’s What Do You See? image prompt. It started me thinking about how someone just diagnosed with a terminal illness may view their bucket list when faced with the inevitable. If and when I get there I hope I handle it like the 74 year old in my narrative above.


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