At the Root

This poem was dually inspired by the photo and a writing prompt on Medium that called for a piece on the branches of the tree of life.

The branches are celebrated
For their food and their fruit
Photosynthesis their gift
But they’d be nothing without the root

The branches produce leaves
Providing shade from its shoot
Scented flowers also sprout
But nothing grows without the root

The branches spread wide
Giving the world a salute
On behalf of the noble trunk
But all respect to the root

The branches of one tree
An apple everyone’s pursuit
Promised knowledge or life
But both were buried in its root

Our family tree had few branches
Adorned with vines we’d recruit
Yet when grandma passed
The tree splintered without its root

Desert Games

 

Far beneath the clouds

In The Valley of mountains

Childhood games entertain themselves

Othello played on a sandy board

Jumping checkers left and right

As Pac-Man gobbles power pellets

Each a perfect circumference

Drawn with a Spirograph 

Medusa's Legacy

Children are to be seen and not heard

Women no different

Guilted into a life of celibacy

Of abstinence from all

Lest we be ostracized

By the gods and men

An anathema, 

Snakes hissing around our heads

Medusa, too, was a victim

Of the gods’ whims

Locked into a life of celibacy

Disfigurement the price of sex

Cursed to hide her form

Hunted and feared

Lust for her blood

Balanced against

Lust for her body

Rage coursing through her veins

Manifested in the glow of her eyes

The hiss of her breath

The rattle of her tail

That same rage runs through women today

Though the gods are silent

Man playing God guised in morality

Denying rights to all who might disagree

Cloaking their lust in black robes

Pointing fingers

Placing blame

Protecting their interests

Without taking responsibility

Forcing our disfigurement

For fear we might

Turn them to stone

Crimes Against Nature

Rivers cut deep

Through the heart of rocky boundaries

Delivering life-giving water

To sun-drenched deserts

From ice-capped mountains

As the natural ebb and flow

Of centuries pass unfettered

Dams built tall and strong

Capture the power 

of this natural cycle 

stifling its organic balance

Lines in the rock showing

The tragic decline

Of melted dreams

Leading to the sad trickle

Of Earth’s blood

While just around the bend

Shallows stories reveal

Humanities crimes again itself

While we pretend the Earth

Is too big to hurt.

Gilded Guardian

 

He stood a sentry

Armor shimmering in the sun

Out of place and time

Yet ready to face new days

He stood a beacon

Triggering imagination

Calling for adventure

Harkening others to his lair

He stood an echo

Clamoring sound of metal

In a desolate landscape

Singing distant memory

He stood a man

Gilded in mystery

Behind a mask of forgetting

Daring others to step aside

Bridging the Gap

A memory near faded

A monument of time lost

Leading back on the path

Like a breadcrumb left

A travel-worn road

A traversal of paths

Bridging the gap

Between coming and going

An unfathomable depth

An unsure traveler

Stuck on the outskirts

Searching for the pinnacle

A realization of triumph

A retreat forward-moving

Trip of a lifetime

Tempering past hurts

 

A gratifying relief

A glimpse of shared affection

Presence obscures pain

Patching fissures in miles

The Facade

 

Snake-like tendrils stretch out,

Grasping for purchasing

Like hair in the wind

Yet strong, powerful

Intentional in their reach.

Feet firmly planted

Basking in the sun

Indifferent to the eyes

Watching in wonder

Unaware of the tension

Holding her in place.

A prisoner of her own strength

Held in place by tendrils of memory

Longing to let go yet

Afraid of the horror left

In the wake of her collapse

She stands tall, proud, 

Hiding the cracks in her foundation.

Drive-by Memories

 

We’d been driving for days, 

Eyes drained and uncertain

Yellow peaked through the leaves

Piquing our imagination.

How? Why? What does it mean?

Sudden memories flash

“Auntie Em, Auntie Em!”

“Step on a crack” and “Swing on a vine,”

The floor is lava! 

Breadcrumbs trail down the yellow brick road.

The house sunk in the grass as if dropped,

Parachute failed. Crash rippled the Earth.

“B’deep, b’deep, b’deep, That’s all folks!”

And then, we drove on.

Missing Pieces

 

At life’s end, we’re buried

Whole yet incomplete

We leave bits of ourselves

Hearts and souls

With those we’ve loved

Hoping we fit into their puzzles

In the same way we wove

Them into our tapestries

Shrouds of memories 

Faded over time 

Yet unforgotten.

A Cautionary Tale

 

Follow the path.

Stay in your lane. 

Don’t detour.

Ignore the scenic route.

Maintain your speed.

Veer neither left nor right.

Keep your eye on the prize.

End in sight.

Future decided.

Fastest way is through.

Only one way out.

No U-turns allowed.

Make us proud.

Lost in the Ivy

 

Many of us are driven by fear

Hoping to stand out, yet

Longing to fade into the background

Secluded from prying eyes

While putting our lives on display

We stand in the sun

Statues unyielding

Suspended, bronze tarnished

Years etched by vines

Taking root around us

Climbing our immovable facades

Appearing as accessories of time

Historíes adorning us in starlight

Growing with the wind, and sun,

And rain washing us away

Until we are no longer more than

A frame for others’ memories

Walking on the Sound

 

Standing at the water’s edge

Deciding the path to take

Searching the horizon for answers

The water beckons

Lapping lightly near my toes 

Promising cleansing in its wake

People talk of immersion as taking the plunge

Letting the newness wash over you

Feeling the frigid sting at once 

Some of us, though, prefer acclimation

That comes with each step

Until we’re ready to submerge

Paper Butterflies

 

Images of hopeless dreams

Hopeful wishes floating

Manifested in four words

Fairytale ending unreached.

Will you marry me?

She held her breath

Not believing the truth

Ignoring all the waving flags

Someone choosing me

Eternally tied, entwined

Like vines or thorns

Ripping at her peace

Something just seems wrong

Not the unrequited side

But the force of feigned affection

Falsifying all likelihoods

She kept the secret

Questioning her answer

From the start

Knowing the end would come

Stuck in the guise of her own making

Afraid of the whispers 

Haunted by the cost 

The dress like a specter

Everything ready except the official

Frozen words build walls all around

His truth breaking through

Releasing her transformed 

Unafraid of the looks

His harsh words of self-hatred

The relieved sigh of retraction

Paper butterflies flew untethered

The Great Migration

 

Souls animate the flesh

Moving us through life

Experiencing the good and bad

Carrying memories like feathers

Floating through the world

Driving our emotions

Tiring the mind

Dragging us kicking and screaming

Promising forever on dormant wings

Waiting in anticipation

Holding out hope for winds of change

Basking in the sun of borrowed time

Remembering seasons gone by

Reaching for others

Lamenting it’s corporeal form

Dreaming of a future unseen

Aching to return home

Watching the clouds shift

Feeling the cool winds blow

Sniffing the air of freedom

Lifting it’s head toward the sky

Spreading it fingers wide

Releasing our bodies to fate

Forgetting the past with each stroke

Fading from view