Opportunity Knocks

Danger, nowhere?
I walked happily with opportunity.
Freely, like a five-year-old walking with her mother in a great city.
Opportunity showed me glistening lights dazzling dances, glorious scenes,
never seen before by another.
Away we drift!
Further away,
Protection’s warnings unheeded.
Warnings, reality, then risks lost.

But again, Opportunity knocks.
But I walk wearily, rather stand, —watching.
It’s beckoning hand untaken.
Rejection, deception, betrayal.
Opportunity knocks,
I watch its grandiose ship.
as I stand on the shore,
Afraid to climb aboard.

But again, opportunity knocks.
I step wearily.
Its hand out stretched.
Sails unfurled.
My eyes desiring, heart despairing,

For opportunity knocks,
Beckoning hand.
And I walk wearily.
Should I walk?

My Inner Child

Last Sunday, I caught a glimpse of my inner-child.
Hidden for so many years, she emerged,
But stayed oh so briefly.
How old was she? 14, perhaps younger? –
This one so lost?
Kidnapped by life.

Laughing, we played together,
She - dancing, enthralled by the world around her.
That world she rarely sees.

Smiling - laughing more that day,
Than I had for months— perhaps years.
light-hearted sunshine—
undisturbed by reality’s oppressive humidity.
Unicorns dance around her discarding their illusive glow.
Catching rainbows.
She holds them in her hands.
She looks for no pot of gold.
For she loves those rainbows for only themselves.

Ahh, my child, —
stay with me always.
Ahh, my child-
never disappear.
Never crawl back into your strangling prison!
For you are not meant to be chained!

But ahh, you are —.
For Time will not stand still,
And reality reasserts its restraint.
Its net surrounds then entangles,
snatching you to its hiding place.

Modern Babylon

A flittering bird flies in darkness.
Flying alone as in distress.
Has it lost its way as we have?
Has it gone from your breast?
Gone its separate way?

The night reveals its story.
A siren screams to the unknown.
A Harley whirls its mournful song,
unknown to what may come.
It will go on and on.

This is my Babylon, my hopeless love.
You wonder so unseeing
you skip on cliffs so high above.
Not caring for its meaning.
You skip so close to destruction.

So gracefully you dance with ease.
Not knowing how far the distance.
You refuse to look at where you trapeze,
so lost in your resistance.
May you wake before it is too late?