 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Soft and Final Landing Soft and Final Landing Morning and the frail light thrashes upon the holly. There's a thread between imitation death and more living, and everything is unscripted, lathering and defying gravity and did I actually hear some prodigal geese scrambling the sky, all sugar, calm and kindness Like me they are fugitives of sameness, their cries clear announcements of change, reminders that without change there is no living . . . What if the gathering dark clouds out there rip open and gush with all our nightmares? What if the worst happens and we survive and are better for it and find it didn't matter anyway because we landed safely back in the Light where we began, and there really is a fathomless, embracing world just beyond this facade, and even now there is a God in our hands, softer than we ever imagined, and an afterlife that shows up early every time we believe, and every life is a cherished shard of an ancient scream, ever-becoming and ever-us? What if All is well . . . Patricia Joan Jones © patriciajj1 - all rights reserved. |
|
Last Five© Moon With Her Sail Full of Myths |
Welcome | Writing Resources | Poets | Search | Poems | Free Poet Site | Contact Us | Publish Poem | Love Poems | Advertise |