RIPPLES (for Yoly Miller)
Dawn is always the
loneliest hour of the day,
disappointments of yesterday
clashing with promises of today
like armies colliding on a battlefield,
the sun beginning to peak through the curtains
as if it’s a curious child.
The pathway behind is part
of my life now,
canyons and peaks leading
to the pinnacle,
chasing the wind through
the cascade of light
toward the obscurity of death.
I lie on my deathbed a thousand times
being reawakened each day
with the freedom of knowing
it is never too late to start over,
to matter enough to make a difference,
riding the harsh waves of life,
leaving a legacy in my wake.
Risk brought me to this moment,
constantly boxing my shadow
until we both are drained,
crossing piranha infested waters
in a leaky lifeboat with no life preserver,
ready to die daily
only to be reborn.
A poet always sees ghosts,
and drinks champagne
when she’s sad,
dealing with the hard things in life
that need talking about,
if only there was someone to talk to,
how many times can God save me?
Being brave is not enough
what is brave about living authentically?
Like a Venn diagram,
we are all connected,
mirrors for each other,
surprised to see parts of ourselves
in the broken eyes of others.
Ready to die daily,
being born again for the very first time
moving out of my comfort zone,
opening up another world,
like a flat rock on the calm clear surface
creating a really big ripple that touches foreign shores.
©2019 by Barbara Marie Minney. All Rights Reserved.
Image Copyright 2017 by Barbara Marie Minney. All Rights Reserved.