He was the calm in my rage

He was the calm in my rage
which led me to a new beginning.

I was the isolated, loose thread
who hardly even noticed
the quiet tug of his hand.

But after being unraveled,
I realized a thing or two.

My eyes could at last see clearly
and all the emptiness faded away.

I was at last free of all the things
that kept me from being me.

And to have someone so generous,
and so full of life with so much to give.

Well, it’s absolutely priceless
in every way, shape, or form.

He really was my saving grace
and to be honest, he still is.

© 2022 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/lavender-nature-flowers-plants-3576129/

Beyond repair

There are some things
that can never be mended;
even as much as you try,
the result remains upended.

And I’ve learned it is better
to let sleeping dogs lay
than to stick around waiting
for the needle to sway.

There’s a balance to life
that just can’t be amended,
but sometimes these truths
are miscomprehended.

So I’m doing my best
to remember all these things
and trying not to fret
over things I cannot change.

© 2022 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/piano-rose-red-flower-love-571968/

The sorcerers staff and the wise child

With firmly shut eyes
and a flick of her wrist,
the incantation rolled easily
off the tip of her tongue.

And as she spoke
those gracious words,
a magical menagerie
of spinning sparks
flickered to life
in pulsating dances
radiating their resplendence
for all the world to see.

It was an unforgettable spectacle
worthy of wonder
which, would ultimately change
the course of time.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/sparkler-firework-celebrate-1835387/

Writing prompt: The sorcerers staff and the wise child

Heightened senses

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There’s a chill in the air
A sure sign of change
The same shivery feeling
Found in breezes of the past

And while déjà vu goosebumps
Leave me to ponder present time
The atmosphere is unsympathetic
As I wrestle with these thoughts

© 2019 Michelle Cook


For a month of writing prompts, click here;  Heightened senses

 

Wilting efforts

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If success is only measured
By man’s own heart
Than what the hell have we been doing
From the very start

We live each day
Trying so hard to get ahead
And with all this mindless shuffling
It’s a wonder we aren’t dead

We scurry and worry
Then we sigh and we cry
While all along never realizing
We’re really just living a lie

Because this isn’t actually living
It’s not about what we’ve done
At the end of the day
We aren’t even having any fun

Instead we’re torturing ourselves
Frustrated by our lack of gain
Each day is just a wilting effort
Driving all of us insane

We’ll never accomplish everything
And never be all we’d like to be
It shouldn’t take our entire lives
For us to finally see

We’ve got to stop measuring our happiness
By the world’s standard views
And take on the dauntless challenge
Of living a life of a whole new hue

Daring to risk it all
Our regular lives might come with a cost
And yet without even trying to change
We forget we’ve already lost

© 2018 Michelle Cook

*This is what my brain produces at 3 am when I can’t sleep.  Lol… Have a great day everyone!  😉  ~M


Writing prompt:  Wilting efforts