Clouds of steam rise,
Reflecting the colors of the pool below.
Reds, oranges, greens, and blue,
Then back again.
Lost in the amazement of the site.
A steep trek followed, just to see,
This beautiful feature from above.
Vibrant against the pale land,
A wonder to behold.
There it stares up to the heavens,
Refracting and reflecting the sun’s light.
Amazing.
Cool shades of blue and gray pools,
Deceiving as they look like ice,
But they boil and tremble from the heat below,
Until they release their energy to the sky.
Sparkling diamonds and crystals
Fall from the heavens, forced out
From steam venting from far below.
They hit the ground and turn to water,
But for a brief moment,
they shimmer in the sun.
The pools calm me,
The geysers excite me,
and I smile.
They remind me of your eyes.
I hope you get to see them one day.
We took off toward the Rockies.
Clear skies graced the airport,
We had even taken a few minutes
to get some fresh air before boarding.
The distant downtown was hazy though,
And the awe-inspiring mountains hidden.
As we moved westward in the skies,
A wall of smoke filled the air,
Blanketing the ground below.
Mother Nature was unleashing her toll,
Not only in the distant wildfires,
But to the valley and plains to the East.
Hopefully rains will soon find their way
And bring necessary relief to this beautiful place.
Imagine having influence on another,
What a powerful tool or weapon to have.
Knowing that just your being can cause
Another to fall to their knees and beg,
To induce someone to strive for more,
To encourage a body to find their best self.
Imagine how that power feels, how it
Makes you puffed up, or perhaps,
Overwhelmed with responsibility.
Just imagine.
Her sight grew dim as she walked down the trail,
the light fading with the setting of the sun.
In the absence of vision her ears perked up,
listening for every whisper among the trees,
every twig that snapped under her feet.
The moon would rise soon, so she carried on,
not waiting for the beams to illuminate the way,
to that secret place she ventured toward,
the precipice of her journey.
In the distance, a clearing from the forest opened,
she drew closer to that point.
In her hand, she held a small flower.
The moon rose in the distance between the peaks,
the beams danced off her dark brown eyes,
making them shine like the evening stars.
She took a seat, holding the flower before her,
and let out a sigh. The trip was symbolic only,
today there would be no immediate change,
but change had to be made.
She looked out to the valley below,
the moon shimmering off the lake and river,
while the town’s streetlights still glowed.
A single tear fell from her eyes,
bounced on the petals, then rolled off.
She smiled with a pained grimace,
both relieved but also sad.
Slowly, she let go of that flower,
watching it float on the wind.
That night, the beautiful blossom changed
into a glorious butterfly with wings.
Grey skies would not give way today,
the sun stayed hidden,
matching the mood of our home.
Sickness came to visit, two days passed,
no improvement and a night full of worry.
Checking every few hours, sheets soaked through,
insistence it was nothing more than food poisoning,
or the like. But his heart, I worry about his heart.
Cold sweats were the sign before, puts me on edge.
He pushed through the morning,
but finally he laid back down.
Then, his fever had broke when he woke.
Finally, signs of normalcy, hungry for dinner at least.
Hopefully, vacation will go on without another hitch.
She looped a stray curl behind her ear,
As she bit her bottom lip, concentrating.
It had been a busy few weeks, but
Finally, the end was in sight.
Her anticipation grew,
Soon they would board that plane
And fly far away. Away from here,
The constant demands from work,
They both had been through the ringer,
They have no more to give. So it was time,
Time to get away, to see the mountains
To travel out west. A well deserved break.
A time to recover from all this strain.
Yes, I get angry, and I hurt.
I scream, I sulk, I slam things.
I cry.
I pour on the super sweet,
I am trying to keep the peace.
I work hard to let things go.
I retreat into my own world.
The de facto stance of me.
I woke him up this morning,
Not even upset with him,
Just tired of the same ol’ shit.
Dishes piled, left for two days.
He knows to rinse out the damn cups.
But it really wasn’t toward him.
I don’t know why things bother me.
I smile through the moment,
And then, in my solitude, I vent.
Dropping the glass jars into the trash,
Because this hellhole doesn’t recycle,
Rescuing the wood cutting board
Left soaking in water, slamming it down.
I could never hurt a fly,
But there are times my tongue is razor sharp.
After all, no one is perfect.
I try to keep it to just me,
Only those closest see through,
The fake smile, the anxiety,
to the real me.
The earth shifts and quakes.
I lose my balance once more.
Shifting, bucking up and down,
the chasm grows once more,
pebbles and rock scatter down.
The bridge sways and tightens
ropes straining under the pressure.
I hear the creaking in the ropes
as the peak on the far side rises,
trying to move out of reach again.
I stumble back and fall on my ass,
tears welling up in my eyes.
Do I chance out across that bridge,
slowly breaking until it is but a tight rope,
or hold back in this place of safety,
wondering if there will be a chance
in some future time, some future place?
Perhaps in a different lifetime the goal awaits.
I sit here, playing with curls I haven’t had in years. The pandemic and a bad haircut from Mom midway through let me take a break from my typical pixie style. Truth be known, I started growing it out for you.
So it makes me sad as I know, nothing is as it was before. Thinned, grey and coal black hair even though I color it, can’t hide from age. My crown no longer flows with beautiful tresses, and this year’s stress has taken its toll.
I will enjoy my curls a few days more. Then mourn a little on Wednesday as they fall and bounce on the floor. It has to be done though; I look a mess. This Wonder Woman no longer can no longer carry a full head of locks. I guess the Ruby Rose look will have to do.
Dawn Renee Writes 