exSOLtation – Alleluia

Dawn creeps slowly in
unseen birds sing in rippling trills,
water splashes pitter puddle
upon a shallow stone.

Sky is black, then a pale horizon
emerging into tints of yellow, mauve, and blue;
a watercolour of sun and sea reflects in the sky.

Songbirds whistle chirp a fluting, soaring orchestra of sound;
an overture to day.

Flowers open to the light, petals damp with dew;
leaves sway to the rhythm of the breeze.

Nighttime peace yawns and prepares to sleep away the day.

Noon sun rises like a temple gong
harsh then dulcet;
reverberating waves of heat.

Fish bubble and plop, catching the light with their midday meal.

Playing children giggle, shriek, and run
chase and tag; bats crack on flying balls;
bicycle tyres turn and whoosh against opposing winds.

Sky cerulean bright against a fleet of fleece-white sailing clouds;
trees rustle, hiding thieving squirrels and warbling songbirds.

Drowsy-eyed against the light, Day basks in the sun.

Later, Day starts its journey towards the Night;
sky and sea both flat and darkened blue.

Swallow flit and dart, circle swoop;
hunting their buzzing dinner feast.

Sun swells, descending in a brassy, blazing fanfare
of orange, red, and gold.

Robins whistle the evening in;
russet breast aburst with joy and pride, in rousing finale.

Crescendoes, as day’s purple-streaked curtain, draws closed.

Day is done
moonlight blankets the land, stippling the trees in silver.

Reflected orbs in sea and stream polka dot the darkness.

Whippoorwills flute a descant to the owls.

Midnight shrouded trees shrug their leafy branches;
redistributing the nestled birds their heads under feathered wings.

The world is in silhouette,
colourless against a darker background of blue-black.
Only eyes are visible, nocturnal gold and green matching their eerie light against the moon and stars.

Day snuggles down in the blessed dark and sleeps away the night.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 19 June 1992

GeminI’m not

I am of two minds
I want to live two lives;
productive and busy, using my wits and skills and at the same time leaning back, napping, reading, walking, and discussing.

I don’t want a list of unaccomplished chores hiding under the furniture or in the back of the cupboards.

I want things to look forward to doing without longing to be back home while doing it.

I want a life of no regrets, no fears, and no doubts. I want a life of wonder, of joyful noises, and beautiful experiences.

I want to accomplish and do great things while the other me stays home sittin’ and a’rockin’.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 3 May 2019

Survivor’s Guilt

There is no beginning, there is no end; there is only now.

All of us survive something when others don’t.

Guilt can be negligible, or overwhelming.

The only cure is to make one’s actions a healing balm to Memory.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 10 October 2011

The Dreams of the Chalk Horse

Carved within the chalk
the sleeping horse dreams of fields
Running through the night


Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 25 April 2019

Transparency

I was raised to be kind,
to treat others with a generosity of spirit as well as with open hands; to use compassion and empathy as guides knowledge, reason, doubt, and observation to determine motivation and accountability.

I learned when to laugh when to smile, and when tears were acceptable both my own alone or in sorrow or joy with others.

I discovered that not all smiling faces are kind and not all stern demeanours are cruel; words and faces lie, learn to read eyes, listen to your heart, and instead of hearing words discern meaning.



Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 9 April 2019

This Time

Change my perspective
Far from where I’ve been before
Who should I be next?

Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 9 April 2019

Benediction

The whole World is sick in mind, body, spirit, and heart.
Our heads ache, our insides churn, our chests pound, our lungs burn,
and our bodies tremble in exhaustion, trepidation, and fear.

My personal space feels shattered, fragmented, out of sync and out of tune.
Feeling hopeless and overwhelmed, debilitated,
both over and underestimated weighs heavily upon my life; dizzy with shifting thoughts.

Many of us are spent; our energy, our bodies, our thoughts, our futures are drained dry.
Some, like many I know, don’t know how to go forward, but even less have the ability to stop moving.
We keep going nowhere; inertia and apathy stealing our future.

I never expected this life, this time and place, this dreamless nightmare.
I fight my way through the days and nights in the hope of anything better;
because something must be and should be better.

Many have less, fewer things, fewer friends and family, fewer possibilities and more anxiety.
Many have everything, and nothing; no hope, no joy, no chances, no love;
I am not there, not yet and hopefully never, but my luck is traditionally bad.

I know though that I have things for which I’m grateful;
I have shelter, some comforts, good and bad memories, the knowledge that I’ve tried.
Mostly, I am grateful to be alive because last week it wasn’t a certainty; give thanks for small blessings.


Ronda R. Scott-Marak

© 8 April 2019