Her life seems minutes old,
but she knows that's wrong.
Wrapped in curtains,
she stares out the window,
and waits.
She waits for spring to arrive,
for the lilacs and wild plum
to bloom, for the grass to green up.
She loves to hear bird song
and the buzz of lawnmowers.
She longs to take pleasure
in every bit of the glorious life
sparkling all around, now,
while she still can.
2 comments:
Marianne, I don't find this gloomy at all. It's real and we all do that. Life is this moment only, breathing in and out, doing what this moment asks of us. I'm curious. What is the glorious life you mention? What does it look like? And what are you doing in this moment to bring it closer, more within your reach? That's what this moment is about. Finding the answers to those questions and then reaching to make them real. I do like your poem, like the imagery, the smells and tastes of the present, and dream elements for the future. Most moments are made of this.
Elizabeth
https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2019/04/26/to-be-or-not-to-be-buoyant/
Marianne,
This is a lovely poem about living. Love the imagery.
Love,
Pamela
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