Threading On

 

Threading On

 

Threading a needle can test the eye

As well as sewing what is torn

As years and years have their worn -

Mending a soul with all its wry

Repairs the mind; calms the heart’s lorn.

 

 

Finding Loss

 

Finding Loss

 

 

When we first know the beginning of loss -

Is it at child’s last grasp at fantasy?

Or perhaps when discipline is a cause

To follow in harrowed lunacy?

 

When is loss the first and last infancy

To still the pained soul into a dark place?

And years and more years of cold dormancy

Become crying eyes of a pained blank face.

 

This then; a heart calloused beyond a trace

And meanings transcend a life’s final truth:

That a day is no more than just one lace

That ties age; loss to a fanciful youth.

 

This then - shall not be taken as uncouth

Nor as discordant notes to a love song

But instead - meditations for kind ruth:

That all is forgiven. Life is not long.

Fleeting

 

Upon an azure sea came the splendored brigantines

Filled with promise and yet, always a chance of loss

From Aurora came Thalassa the ship of Hemera

(As mariners conjured warning or delight of a rubicund sky)

And from the closing horizon

Came the Hespera, the ship of Atlas.

Each galleon escorted by their looming armadas

Through the gales of endless time;

Temporary fleets in their fleeting moment

High above the seemingly indefectible

and stationary annotations 

Placed upon the face of Mother earth.

That there is no gravity finds peaceful

The kissing of these clouds.

Photograph by Donna Hass