I read to taste life twice.
I write to channel imagination’s vice.
The words they flow, and stories they sew, leaving me in the grips of night.
As the pages by wind turn
Off the paper, love creates a burn
The hero becomes a villain while the air, bone-chilling, sends a shiver to the edge of the spine
From beginning to end
The chapters maliciously mend
Any trace of a shred, of who I was before bed, and wake me new in the morn.
She imagines the possibility under the cover of her flaming locks.
It cannot take the glow of Spring’s first warm light on my winter skin.
It cannot tilt my heart on the axis it spins.
It cannot lay claim to the adventures of my mind.
It, therefore, will not win.
It will lay bare our faults and our fears.
It has no soul. About nothing it cares.
It will ravage the old and young the same.
It will expose our mistakes and immortal shame.
And when it’s darkness towers over us, and a last stand remains,
Rush boldly we will, shedding its chains.
It cannot, it will not, it should not transpire,
A dimming of our humanity’s fire.
It cannot, it will not, it should not conspire,
For we are glass blown into steal, forged from this same fire.
I can still feel the sun’s heat on my face,
even when fear wrestles with grace.
I can still see love in another’s eyes,
while facing the darkness of demise.
I can still water a flowering bud,
as my emotions get swept away by the flood.
And I can still believe today will be tomorrow,
when my heart mends from subsuming sorrow.
In the quiet of the night
In the hole of the soul
In the alley where it lived
Under the moon covered in clouds
The sadness it did bring,
Pulling the stitches of the world
Infecting the tears of many
While living in the body untold
Through the darkness it spread
Killing wisdom with a stone
But through it all a tiny light did glow
And with it, brought hope
Small and grand gestures brought healing
Like vitamins from the sun
And the virus disappeared
Into the cave from which it did come
For humanity is the strongest medicine of all
Dropping joy like seeds
Which turn into trees
Growing through the seasons of her life
The leaves unfold
Each a story told
A canopy from the essential strife
When comes her last call
A final leaf in the fall
It will cut with a silent knife
She can turn the world with her smile.
Her heart, a song, coloring your eyes with something better.
She is fiercely kind and kindly direct.
Swiftly tilting her head, she questions the patriarchy.
A poet mathematician. A singer scientist. A musician doctor, healing your tired mind with her laughter.
She is precisely messy, delightfully charged, a force of joy.
A daughter, sister. friend to all.
She is water,
Flowing, dripping, dropping, water-falling.
Washing the inequity from the streets of
your indifference.
She’s a tidal wave, a force to level out
the wrong done upon her sisters.
The tides are made of her opinion.
You can bathe in her beauty, her fresh, pure springs.
She crashes, white, frothy surf, commanding
the attention of her audience on the beach.
She is holy water. She is nature.
You must drink her for life.
She is water,
Cascading, swirling, drowning in strife.
We could banter,
Say all the things.
Whispering in moonlight,
Exchanging rings.
We could tell truths,
Deeper than sea.
Exchanging oxygen for words,
Until we’re free.
We could sing,
Our hearts the drums.
Making morning night,
Darkness always comes.
What are your reasons for getting up in the morning with a smile on your face? What are your reasons for not giving up during the toughest times? What are your reasons for being you? Only you get to answer these questions, a
nd that is a powerful thing.
I have three beautiful children. I have the love of a lifetime. I have family and friends, a close circle these days, and I can trust them to be there. I have a fulfilling career. And, I have a passion for writing, running, music, and veganism. I also have four, yes 4, wonderful dogs and two wooded acres in a community where I fit. All of this makes me smile each day, even on darker days.
I have not always appreciated my reasons to the extent I do now. There were times when things did not go as planned, and times when I made poor choices. I chose to find my way back, and I chose to leave behind what was not good. In this process of learn & burn, I found “the me” I was always meant to be. My reasons inspired me.
Here I am, uniquely me, following my passions. Before me is endless possibility and my reasons. Behind me is the regret and sadness I am not meant to carry forward. I write inspired. I wake happy. I stay healthy. Thank you, reasons. I love you.
Writer focused on fiction for middle-aged women with spunk
An Independent Non-Discriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations
Raku pottery, vases, and gifts
Kelly Rogers 