Work In Progress

This is another poem I wrote many years ago as I was beginning my journey to self-awareness. A painful time, it was of some benefit to remind myself I was not the pain I bore, but caught only in the shadow of it. I began to think of myself as a work in progress. This made the nature of any discomfort more present and passing and far easier to bear.

Still does …

Work in Progress

I am a work in progress.
The canvas of my life
Stretches across the easel
Of time, anticipating each nurturing
Brush stroke by the Masterful Artist.

I am a landscape ~
An ever-unfolding vista of colours,
And shapes and light.
The shadows of clouds
Float in, and out,
Dispersed by bright sunshine,
Irreverent and true.

The Masterful Artist reveals
Mysterious patterns and
Miracles with a
Flick of the conscience, or
A long, deep stroke of thought.
The brush of a shadow ~
The sweep of radiant light ~
Depth to denote character,
And dappled sunlight to
Delight the soul.

The Masterful Artist’s strokes
Are sure, each measure
Of the art-child completed
In its time ~
Contemplated and recorded.
Mistakes are washed away,
Remembered no more.
Flaws are embraced to
Profess a perfectly natural appeal.

I am a landscape ~
Time rolls across my verdent fields,
Tickled by morning dew drops ~
Each tender blade of
Life reaching beyond
Tomorrow ~ to grow ~
To stretch toward the measure
Of its creation.

I am a work in progress.
The canvas of my life
Gradually reveals a story
Spun by the Masterful Artist.
I am a Masterpiece.

*

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2012

Cold Menace

He steals aboard
In the still of the night,
But you won’t know he’s there
Til the first morning light.

At first you feel nauseous
It’s all in your head,
And for a few frightful hours
You wish you were dead.

Then you cough and you sneeze
With what seems your last gasp.
There appears no escape
From the menace’s grasp.

Feel him roar in your chest;
In your head feel him spin.
Then his chills wash you over —
It’s a right state you’re in.

The best way to fight
Is, of course, to lay low.
When you don’t give him fuel
Somewhere else he must go.

So, eat well and get rested,
Stay warm and take care,
And before very long
He’ll be no longer there.

*

I’ve been laid low with the cold menace now for the better part of two weeks. He’s been a stubborn and unpleasant visitor, hijacking my every day activities and leaving me feeling drained and unproductive.

Having said that, he’s also afforded an opportunity for me to get some much needed rest, reassess my diet, think long, contemplative thoughts and recommit to important aspects of my life that I had been allowing to slip.

So, while the cold menace is a fellow I wouldn’t normally invite into my life, his presence hasn’t been a total waste. It seems even the uninvited guest can teach us a thing or two about ourselves.

Nevertheless I’ll be happy to see  the back of him. It’s time he inflicted his wisdom on some other unsuspecting soul.

Time to unwrap the present …

Dorothy

Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2011