Old stone walls and fences facing winds and snows
Line the roads that lead to you
Your weathered eyes and
The graceful air around us that I live to breath
Here we are, still
Chins up, voices clear, bravely ignoring
this moment, and the next and the next
surrendering to the selfish passing of time
“In the midst of darkness, light persists.” – Mahatma Gandhi
Jenny Qi, from Postcards from the Living – A poem for Sunday
I’ve walked here today
happy to see the lights lit in the shops, knowing it is not owned or circled on any map.
I have arrived too late.
I have gathered the diamonds in my cuffs and socks and hats and sails,
laced the waterless seas
with magic
and come back to the stillness
only to discover you.
I want to stand still forever.
maybe the tides will bring you back
here where I’m waiting.
emerging into the unrecognizable form I will become
without you
maybe in the morning
in my reflection
I will see you in my eyes
April 10, 2019
Some days the fog doesn’t lift
it remains all day – through lunch, through dinner, through sleep
I pray for prisoners, for oppressed women who cannot stand, for animals chained and enclosed, for lost, purposeless souls
caught in fog that doesn’t lift
Anne Lombardi 