In quiet whispers, wisdom flows,

Through the ages, deep roots grow.

Memories linger, shadows dance,

Hearts entwined in fate’s romance.

Time's embrace, a gentle sigh,

Old souls wander, never shy.

In the silence, stories breathe,

Threads of life, we weave, believe.

In a gathering of souls who recognized and sang to mine

I heard echoes of ages long past and words supremely divine.

Whispers of shared secrets ’til then remained undivulged

But in a glimpse of perceived awareness were firmly nudged

Toward a well-honed life able to shed its own sustaining light

Amidst wiser old souls glimmering far brighter in the night.

Picture Courtesy of Jenikmichal, Pixabay

Cynthia Calder, 11.02.24

In a caliginous haze, soft as winter mist,

the cry of a thylacine rises through the trees—

a ghostly wail, long gone but still stirring,

echoing over hills that know her no longer.

The forest is still, save for whispers,

believers' murmurs hanging in the air,

of a world slipping away, of shadows departing.

The quiet is a sign, some say, of separation itself:

this undoing of old things into echoes and winds.

Along the damp riverbanks, bones rest cold

beneath the weight of time,

silent underfoot in the pulse of dark soil,

their shapes blurred but long-staring,

waiting for the day when nothing remains.

A flash in the woods, a pang of memory—

there’s no farewell, only the sense of wiedersehen,

a half-formed thought, that one day we will

meet again in some untouched dusk,

where silence and song are all that’s left.

I see you lurking in my dreams

Stuck between, neither here nor there

What is it you need?

What question should I heed?

What do I say to send you on your way?

You seem so sad, even a bit mad.

Behind grey fog, no, maybe even smog

Broken, of course, you could not stay

You did not need to go

I forgive you, you know

For all the reasons you thought were good

For actions beyond your iron control

For the hurts and pain

And your total distain

Because you are not who once you were

Go! Peace be with you

You’ve earned the right to respect this life

And if by chance our souls should meet once more

I’ll love you still

I always will

The flowers will still bloom

as will the trees,

the sky will reign blue

as will the seas,

all will be as it ever was

long after we cease to be;

but nothing will be the same

when you have left me

the sun will shine

yet only shadows will I see

for my sun will be no more

your light gone from me;

And thus, I weep alone

so that when I hold you

I do not to cry for what has been

and soon won't be

but rather smile,

while you are still with me.

From ripe to rot

Don’t worry if not

Take your best shot

My skin is real hot

From rot to ripe

I was never your type

The tears are yours to wipe

You were always worth the hype

From ripe to rot

I miss you a lot

I know you forgot

To loosen my knot

In the empty plains

where everything is distance

When I am surrounded endlessly

in the vastness of the feels

I whistle up

mind horse

who comes galloping nowhere

illuminating

the grown over path

The speed of mind horse unparalleled

Smooth the ride on

Earth holds no boundary

no gravity

no barrier to appear

Close your eyes

inner hear mind horse

Appear before the barriers

Gallop hundred centuries in hundred steps

Time walks no distance

And no distance cannot be unjourneyed

By my glowing horse

You always said, 'I'm telling you what my father told me, don't wait too long to have kids.'

When I turned thirty, you took me on a long walk - and explained my own dwindling fertility to me - as if you couldn't understand why I hadn't yet produced a child. Another disappointment I suppose. I made many excuses - my low wages, my high rent, my partner's reluctance to become a father, the increasing conflicts within the world, the collapse of ecosystems, pollution. All of these reasons were real - but none of them is what was truly keeping me from motherhood.

The truth is - I didn't feel equipped to become a parent. I was painfully aware of my hair-trigger temper, my disproportionate reactions, the undercurrent of violence that flowed through my veins, always threatening to come to the surface.

My own world felt so unsafe that I could never imagine willingly subjecting an innocent being to it. Because children are supposed to be nurtured and kept safe. They are supposed to be encouraged and loved unconditionally, so they can grow into the beautiful and unique (and yes sometimes frustrating) person they are supposed to be. And I didn't get that from you as a child. The home I grew up in felt like living on the edge of a volcano. Sometimes dormant, usually spewing lava - but occasionally blowing up and destroying everything in it's path.

Now I am healing and learning healthy communication and emotional maturity. Maybe one day - with the right partner, I might feel safe enough to nourish a child. Maybe not. Either way, I am determined to break the pattern here.

I just wish you would take the time to come to terms with your own childhood trauma - I can't imagine what you have suffered to make you as you are.