The sweet pickle is here with us
my ittle pumpkin
with her melancholic eyes
run down body she arrives battered by a sea wave
slowly gradually reviving
resting and nourishing
sharing moments and rituals
growing pains smoothed away
her eyes sparking like dew drops
The quiet, the slow days, the rain, the cold
the silent tears I hold
Time after time
Sweet autumn breezes by and yet
each day filled with little moments
precious still life
memories short and sweet
I am the good wife
Time after time
clear open skies, sunrise flames
cooler winds , charcoal nights
and his breath
heavier and thicker, real life
Time after time
and again my self
inner outer misaligned
time lapse, twilight zone
my flesh and bone
old woman
Time after time
feeling and wanting
praying and dreaming
working and keeping
time lost, tense in the present
tight tension like string
thin yet strong
like spiderweb's thread
I am spider grandmother
Time after time
wise old me, strong
working with inner balacne
so fragile inside
like thousand sharp splinters
above and beyond a parallel dimesion
trying to break the tension
Time after time
I repeat myself
boredom of the world's ignorance
working hard to disperse fear
time is here, here and now
and soon, just before
the end
https://earth-magick.com/journal/honoring-the-goddess-grandmother-spider/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spider_Grandmother
The distance between
In the woods
The resonance of joyful play
Unseen space
Time and breath
hold still
beyond the trees
beyond the meadow
the sea
where I long to be
not you
just me
It comes in waves
they say
I see
the sea
and drown
waves rise up to the surface
while I get dragged by deep currents
my thoughts
my breath
my body
my soul
my self
...
Here are the skies all burnished brightly,
Here is the spent earth all re-born,
Here are the tired limbs springing lightly
To face the sun and to share with the morn
In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn.
Every day is a fresh beginning;
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecasted and possible pain,
Take heart with the day, and begin again.
Susan Coolidge (extract from 'New every morning')
https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poem/new-every-morning/
Deep
I am what I am not
In this density
Thick, deep, I forgot
The immensity, the intensity
In her eyes
Beyond the skies and the land
Beside the mundane, the daily tasks
The imprint of her gemtle hand
I carry on my coffee flasks
Empty
Space, inside and outside
Resonance of her laughter I hear
My heart smiling inside
Bitter sweet she is far and near
Deep
silently I weep
