Nothing but the Blood

I gave away my feathers to a wounded bird, mid-flight

She fondled in her fingers and gazed at colours bright.

Both of us now cold, I wandered down the pale pink hall

Warmed by hands and hearts – reciting heaven, gold, gems and all.

With bravery I wore a cross-shaped medal I didn’t earn

A signed and sealed commission of men has joined the funeral burn.

Though many think the flow of blood is death, despair and strife

I know for sure it’s freedom from guilt and our eternal life.

The darkness that I wear will not do for wedding ball

Patiently, I changed the feathers for a pure white shawl.

 

 

Image credit

To my girl

girlHaving friends like these
Makes it good to be alive

Once a loved one burdened
Me with my life

Ever since I doubted
Was I made for strife?

My worth upon this earth
Is not mother or a wife

A helper and completer
For those grafted to the vine

All these inner longings
Are a gift from God divine

Now my little angel, rest
Until the day is fine

All your gifts and hugs to give
I’ll gladly take as mine

—————————-Photo by Alexander Shustov

What Lies Beneath

Women, neighbours

flat screen glows

shattered window blows

children in care somewhere

paying her way out

giving out offers for

mother’s day photos

at the family park

for commission

Sin of omission

a fortune spent

don’t blink! Little faces

immortalized in ink

on my wall

I am reminded of her

in them all