Tender one,
Snugged to forest face.
Frail one,
Beauty one,
Subtle touch of grace.
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Frail one –
I do not understand it But simply sitting with you Calms my nerves Quells my fears And soothes my sorrows. You are lace and filigree A storied scroll Bound tender by serenity... And I thank you. We say “Damn time”!
Or we say “Spin us a yarn old man” And the cracked and crusty leathery one Licks a gnarled finger And holding it up drawls, “Me thinks it’s the winds of heaven blow through here tonight. The air is thick with harvest. What say we lay out on the mottled hills And drink in the pungency, This world and the other Mingling finally.” You don’t remember?
How can you be so forgetful? Hurry up! You walk too slow. You spilled again Be more careful. We can’t take you out like this. What? You're not making any sense. Don’t you care that we give so much? Grief spreads and fetters souls When love can’t see the way Of winged ones who've taken flight Into a very different night. They can’t come back The shades are drawn And wishing won’t make it so Or bring them back from the mountain top Once they go. Frailty scales icy scapes You’d only dream to climb And navigating treachery Takes a little time. High wire walkers Gracefully precise. Frailty walks a narrow ridge One of crackling ice. Spring bursts in firstborn green
And summer smirks its rapturous blooms But autumn's gifts are hard to beat Gold and gems laid at our feet. Sorrow presses hard Staring out my eyeballs like the devil Heart clouds gather The rain streaks my cheeks. Withdrawn child – be tender with yourself Your heart is hand blown glass Cup it in your hands Caress the vulnerability This day is a frail day – It is treasure easily shattered. Hold it gingerly - cherishing This was the original, very personal version of this piece: Upon waking I did not know that this would be one of my frail days But the day looms before me - an enemy poised to fight - and me with no fight. One foot before the other - barely One thought to another - barely Struggling to see outside my brain. Sorrow presses hard - staring out my eyeballs like the devil. Heart clouds gather and rain streaks my cheeks. Today I must be a child withdrawn -tender with myself. My hands caress my heart's vulnerability - Not a bouncing ball today but glass hand blown. Today is one of my frail days. I hold it gingerly - treasuring. When I grow very old
I shall swathe myself in purple So that when the wind gusts threaten my fragile footing, Perhaps my robes will paint a masterpiece. Body broken -
Your lithe spirit Flits between the veils In and out This world and the other Round and round the portal Playing with angels, And praying soon to soar... You say “I wasn’t always this old.
Before the sun set And the autumn came And the snow fell, I was someone. I had a life.” I say “My love, now you are more. When you were young you only had now. Now you have now and then.” Quiet river - breathing
Constant working through Life cycle - churning Often hid from view. Tranquil waters – breathing Rising bubbles show Worlds beneath the waters Percolate with growth. |
Nancy LindquistFrail beauty tracker. Archives
June 2012
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