Poetry

Root Ball

I’m standing on a platform

that I used to think was my world.

Every so often, I would see glimmers off in the distance and wonder

what they were.

Now those glimmers have extended roots

to latch onto my platform, so that it is not a platform anymore

but part of a greater whole that I never knew existed.

I can now walk to them

any time I wish

and sink into their greeting, unafraid

of judgement, knowing above all that I’m accepted

and always will be.

Poetry

Life Lines

I keep it locked away in a small box

I paint it on my skin

I wear it in my smile

I hide it in a bottle of gin.

I hold it out like a banner

I tuck in it my boots

I coat it in beeswax

I simply don’t give two hoots.

I display it proud on a shelf

I hug it tight to my chest

I watch it and make notes

I take pleasure it giving it out as a test.