tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42618728484129616102024-03-12T22:07:40.689-07:00From The Depths. . .insights from a hopeful spirit and the journey back to the surfaceLindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225635421849567481noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4261872848412961610.post-46954078924684202412008-12-17T09:19:00.000-08:002008-12-17T09:21:04.651-08:00Dead Poet's Society<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKHtrE3jugbJPOiRvVWrgdbXcUuP2AZ9hhjL_MYrp2TpOCp9J4mRsHZvoC9xv8beYF87Qdw9bSutwHCjM4VV-4vH_0ArKGA6GJFgonJpP2pSNA1ZT1h4-RdEp9-7qlx_-Ve5YhqRBNmN5S/s1600-h/poetry.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280810202901963570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKHtrE3jugbJPOiRvVWrgdbXcUuP2AZ9hhjL_MYrp2TpOCp9J4mRsHZvoC9xv8beYF87Qdw9bSutwHCjM4VV-4vH_0ArKGA6GJFgonJpP2pSNA1ZT1h4-RdEp9-7qlx_-Ve5YhqRBNmN5S/s400/poetry.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225635421849567481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4261872848412961610.post-37619454139378256992008-12-01T13:05:00.000-08:002008-12-01T13:06:48.237-08:00Budsbeyond the predicted growing season<br />she remains<br />tall, elegant, reaching<br />this Annual absorbs <br />exposing her intrinsic value and the evidence of life coursing through her bared veins<br />and whom should now be preparing her exit citing the impending, forecasted frosts<br /><br />but this earth she landed in is unfamiliar to her<br />full of promise, unaware of expirations or ritual turnings<br />she acknowledges the uncharted demarcation line<br />separating her ‘before’ becoming~ and her ‘after’<br /><br />some lines aren’t as easily recognized<br /> blurring, still blending<br />so she struggles from this limited viewpoint<br />wondering where to rest among the remains of them<br />knowing, naturally, that others took hold in this select soil before her<br /> quietly, rising above, she refrains from judgment<br />or weepings, as obvious as the willow<br /><br />she finds it hard to avoid witnessing this final dance of theirs<br />exposed tendrils, evidence of another gathering<br />pretending not to notice<br />the still shared rhythms, synchronized remarkings<br />phrases she believed unique to him<br />and, not unaware of this common ground that they shared<br />her form still embedded in places familiar<br />now laying claim to items she’d forgotten, or perhaps surrendered, in his presence alone<br />but deemed of value amongst new beginnings and widening circles<br />and what of this Annual<br />only beginning to extend her roots to depths secure?<br />she remains<br />embracing the shifting winds encircling her<br /> her resolve deepened<br />poised for the moment when she becomes an established perennial<br />purposely remaining planted…<br /><br /><br />lmks<br />10.06.08Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225635421849567481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4261872848412961610.post-12118866331166978752008-12-01T13:02:00.000-08:002008-12-01T13:05:24.717-08:00a message to my mothera message to my mother<br /> in her native tongue<br /><br /> <br /> her vessel received<br /> but longings chased deeper<br /> where angst and ritual fears conformed now<br /> the length of her stretching limbs<br /><br /> familiar, too, as the rehearsed holding pattern of her soul<br /> knowing she could solo, to where partnered cups runneth over<br /> escaping ghosts of endings Grimm<br /> if she only could see where to land<br /> instead of waiting for the impact<br /><br /><br /> by lmks, 11/03/04, in the 2 something a.m.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225635421849567481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4261872848412961610.post-64464728848097180002008-12-01T12:46:00.000-08:002008-12-01T13:02:24.891-08:00It's PersonalIf you're looking for Dr. Seuss, limericks or even haiku, then you'll probably be disappointed. These writings are about what I know to be true. While life near the bottom was... trying, lonely, ironic... it was purged by these writings that have led me back to the surface. And I'll be ever grateful for the journey.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13225635421849567481noreply@blogger.com0