death

Will I have done enough?

~ ~M ~ 18 Comments

I’m trying to be better about reaching out,
to be more intentional with my words,
but oh, how I fail miserably.
There is never enough time
for every person I love
and for every person who loves me.
I wrestle with being able to give enough of myself,
but at the same time,
I’m trying to save some of myself just for me.
Oh, what a predicament!
One day, I will be done trying;
my body will at last wear out,
and I’ll be lost to the wind,
scattered on some sorrowful breeze,
on some unexpected lonesome day.
Will I have done enough?
Maybe it won’t matter
because maybe in the grand scheme of things,
I am just me — a tiny particle of dust
who doesn’t stand a chance
of making any difference at all.

© 2025 Michelle Cook

Photo generated with AI

Old Gods

~ ~M ~ 7 Comments

Continued from here

Scouring the corridors for any sign of a way out, Darla walked briskly, knowing exactly what the Detainers would do if they found her. She’d already scurried through at least a dozen different passageways, and each adjoining area she found led to even more open-aired hangars. The hangars were full of battle-ready fighter jets and monstrous-sized cargo ships. Each silvery gleaming monstrosity seemed to be floating in unified anticipation of what was soon to come. Flashbacks of the Old Gods kept filling Darla’s mind. How had the world she’d left just a few years ago gone from pleasant rolling hills blanketed in emerald green clover to the current devastation, which was spreading more each day? It was difficult to understand how greed could be the cause of so much despair. And where was Abbefore she wondered, had he escaped and gone back into hiding, or was he now captured along with the others? And with that last thought, a sudden searing pain shot through her arm, and then another nipped at her upper thigh. That’s when the lights went out, the flashbacks disappeared, and with the onset of darkness, the dreams began.

© 2024 Michelle Cook

Continued here

Photo credit: https://afterwards.blog/

Writing challenge: https://afterwards.blog/2024/01/22/afterwards-writing-prompt-3-monday-22nd-of-january-old-gods/

Time

~ ~M ~ 17 Comments

Time
Where does it go?
Can anyone tell me
Does anyone know?

We only hold so much
When will it run out?
I don’t have enough
Of that I have no doubt

The gentle breeze blows
Trying to reassure
But there’s something not right
Of that I am quite sure

I don’t have enough time
I know I never will
Time is such a burden
Until the day at last we’re still

© 2023 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/girl-hands-flower-people-model-4169891/

I still believe

~ ~M ~ 28 Comments

I see God every day;
He’s always there
to brighten my way.

He made all the wonders
of the world,
even down to the tiniest
buds unfurled.

He gave me my life,
and He gave you yours;
He lets us decide our paths
and yet suggests detours.

It’s up to us to find our path
and go our own way,
and like a good father,
there are some things
He doesn’t say.

He lets us choose
whether we go left or go right,
but gives us our inner strength
when a battle arises
that we must fight.

He never promised us
a world without strife,
and He’s shown us plenty
of examples of pain
in His own life.

I think back to when
His most trusted angel turned away,
which reminds me of when
our own children chose not to stay.

The pain and sorrows
are never very far,
but just as a mother,
He still loves us wherever we are.

I can’t begin to understand
all that He is;
I just know that He loves me,
and I am His.

And one day, I’m sure,
I’ll understand more than I do now;
His wisdom will find me
just like the faith He has endowed.

Until then, I just keep trusting
and believing with my whole heart,
and I know He’ll be holding onto me
when at last, I do depart.

We mustn’t lose hope,
even in a world that seems so dim,
so I’m putting all my hope
in the One who’s always been.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/rose-rose-blossom-bud-blossom-5255938/

Diminished divinity

~ ~M ~ 12 Comments

Her hair smelled of lavender,
and her skin was velvety smooth,
and I’d wanted to bask in her loveliness
as she stirred neath the purplish moon.

But soon, the luminosity faded,
and her body grew cold and gray,
and I cried for never being able to tell her
all the things I’d wanted to say.

© 2022 Michelle Cook

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/window-wood-frame-fantasy-full-moon-4670739/