Arah . . .*

621-nov-001-64

Black Moon Night – photo by Wild Thing

Today we grieve . . .
Wear black
Beat our chests . . .

Keen “ARAH!”
Let the pain out . . .

Til we rise . . .
Like the sun
Stronger . . . wiser

Knowing . . .
There is always
Light in the darkness

Wild Thing ©Nov. 9, 2016

*I wrote this poem the day after Trump was elected. In view of the over 95,000K deaths due to the corona virus, it seems more needed today than ever.

The Loss

fcb38b1bcaa933be6b7f826ca9ad2ae4d672094d (2)

he walked
as if shackled

his large hands
held a wooden
box of ashes

eyes blurred
he gently set
the box
on the table
fell onto his knees

he turned
wrapped his arms
around her legs
face buried
in her lap

her soft touch
upon his head

in this moment
he cried like
the boy
he once was

Wild Thing ©April 10,2020

Too High

121

once
a witch flew
too close
to the sun

her ashes
drifted down
on the wind
down to earth

slowly
she nurtured
them to be
reborn

she looked
like herself
some scars
still visible

she left them
to remind her
never fly
so high again

Wild Thing ©April 2, 2020

Ancestral Messages

Ancestral Warriors

strong women
from ancient years
speak to me at night

be brave our
darling daughter
they whisper
you are strong

square your
slender shoulders
for the weight
tis always been
ours us to bear

the pain, misery
of the people
that we feel
we take and create

the universe listens
when we weave our spell

Wild Thing ©March 20, 2020