A Praying Mantis at my door

“May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder.”
― John O’DonohueEternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong

praying mantis

A praying mantis at my door,
I can’t ignore.

I look for signs
indications that you are near.

And even though,
I swish him out,
he stares at me,
there is no doubt,
perhaps he’s here,
just to say,
“everything will be okay”.

He’s part of the cosmic stream,
a messenger on sacred beams.

In mystical times,
I just sense,
cherished gifts of recompense.

A porthole opens to give me bliss,
a dulcet moment,
a sacred kiss.

My praying mantis,
dressed in green,
quietly heralds the unseen…..

Image courtesy of PixaBay

Wordy Wednesday

The child is grown
The dream is gone
I have become comfortably numb
― Pink Floyd

dont call me bitch

when i was a child you said some words,
now i know,
it seems absurd,
but on that day,
i changed forever
perhaps i should’ve just said
but i let it grow into my bones,
those words stung
when i was alone,
you never knew the harm you did,
i was just a defenceless kid!

but i grew to believe those words,
a thing you shouldn’t
say to girls,
and now i am grown,
what can i say,
in remembrance of that hurtful day.
I’ll shout it out….
“I’m not a bitch!”
even scream it
at fever pitch!

i remember the trees crumpled in shame,
when you called me,
disparaging names!
forgiveness has always been my quest,
but never say,
those words
in jest…..



“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
― Lao Tzu


Obscured vision
plunged me,
into domains unknown.
I had lost acquaintance with
the essence
of home.

Light was not visible,
only faint impressions,
in the language of shadows,
I heeded the lessons.

What does it mean to surrender to grace
to long for the comfort
of light’s embrace?

I was guided to luminance,
through blind reveries,
into creation’s abundance,
and faith’s treasuries.

Those defining moments,
when life is changed,
the before,
and the after,
never the same…

On the
other side,
of unfulfilled dreams,
where nothing appears to be what it seems,
gentle ripples
of growth,
shift the need to survive,
and coalesce the motion,
of love amplified!


Don’t call me macabre…

“Their absence is like the sky, spread over everything.”
― C.S. LewisA Grief Observed

safe harbor

don’t call me macabre
while i search for
safe harbour
in graveyards
of doubt
with bloodcurdling
a life cracked apart
a fragmented
bleeding into
my dreams
i’ve lost what
it means
to have
sanity of being
it’s asylum
i’m seeking
death hides
in plain sight
in fears that
may smite
on pebble stone paths
in the
cruel aftermath
your name
is enthroned
with desolate groans
candles glow
at noon
and no soul is
to the brutality
of loss
lines will
be crossed
some morbid
some benign
memorial shrines
and flowers in the hall
are a tearful squall
i think of your name
overwhelmed by the pain
do they understand
and unplanned
untimely grief
demanding relief….