Autumn Memories and Magical Threads

P1010263 copy

The magic continues
The spinner weaves a fragile thread
Taken to tangles and knots
Requiring a gentle patient touch.

We are connected by a magical thread.
Sometimes the filament frays –
when confusion clouds the perception of action or inaction.
Tenuous attachments attract uncertainty.

Fantasy, illusion, dreams – all is good –
Reality is often hard pressed to keep pace with the mind’s alternative universe.
Especially when that universe is shared
with the embodiment of remembered yearning.

A vivid memory of crisp breezes carrying wispy scent of hearth and embers.
Dusk falling rapidly as I briskly walked the few blocks home –
dodging puddles and reveling – charging through piles of crunchy maple leaves
randomly adorning the sidewalk.

Utter joy with the sensory symphony –
for the moment tenuously overriding
the swell of angst rising from my depths.
A nameless yearning. Strong sense of something missing.

Feeling such a longing to reach out and touch
the someone who was striving to do the same from parts unknown.
Continuing my walk home and
turning my thoughts to the evening’s planYet, down deep inside knowing that the longing would continue,
the vague sense of disquiet would go unappeased.
Until the shadows took on form emerging from the hidden realm
and the wonder of recognition became reality.

Someone Else’s Drummer

Someone Else’s Drummer

I saw my shrink today
and pronounced myself cured
I came home tonight
understanding what that meant

Cured of trying to REASON you out of my thoughts
Cured of believing I’ll ever stop caring
Cured of the hope – even the dream
That someday we’ll find a way

Gone is the hope
But not the yearning
My dream has faded
while desire grows and need persists

And so the struggle continues,
once more behind a mocking mask
projecting rational thoughts,
trying to fool the world.

How many of us
live our lives pretending,
marching to the beat
of someone else’s drummer?