Her hands

i stare at her gnarled
hands, life etched on
each wrinkle, vein 


wipe tears
from child's eyes


soothe fears
& doubts of troubled lad


caress shyly
lover's fair face 


tie family strings
through sorrows, heartbreaks


crochet linens, sweaters 
spreading warmth and joy   


wield axe
demanding firmness


hold cup to toast
success, big & small steps 


bury an erring husband
loving him till the end 


offer peace, gladness
blessings overflowed simple nest


play with angels on her lap,
longing for eternal peace


now, clasped in prayer's cross
waits for death's dance 
finally

Author's Note:  This post is for Poetry Jam:  Songs for the Dead, hosted by Chris of Enchanted Oak.  The prompt is to write about death of a beloved, in my case, my grandmother who died years ago at a very ripe age of 93.   In her 60+ , she wanted to die already; not wanting to follow the footsteps of her mother, who also died in her 90+.   


During her lifetime, my grandmother made lovely things with her skilled hands.  As my wedding gift, she gave me a hand-made quilt for my bed.   Her crochet and embroidery pieces continue to remind us of her love.    

picture credit:   http://imathome.tumblr.com/post/8575258300

Lightning

cracks, spills, falls
legs weary from travel, 
i rest my tired feet

pressured, rushed, pressed
disjointed on ends
i stare blankly in space  

drained, listless, stumped
with obligations
arms heavy, i breathe deeply

s l o w l y

expanding chest out,

empty mind sought to find the tail of space
a hallowed place where the well of life dwells
  
grasping for that one atom of power

inhaling  d e e p l y

a lightning spark, silvery thread

pure ideals unborn, unformed 
immaculate love, unconditional 

springs to life

reaching deep, i allow

the fire ball of energy to grow 


b i g g e r  

until 

electricity crackles at my fingertips
the flaming tongue licks my breasts, 

warming loins, kindling passion    

blazing steadily

welding broken limbs, 
mending ruptured vessels

bandaged legs, I became whole.

my spirit rose and walked.

i sang and heard my voice.       

Author's Note:   Share your poem (any form) today at D'verse PoetPubs (every Tuesday) starting at 3pm EST.  It is OpenLinkNight, hosted by Joy Ann Jones. See you there ~ 

(My original last line was: "I grabbed my pen and paper to write."  I edited it after reading an article from Zen Habits and Brian's invite.)

Thanks for all your kind words and visit.


Shared with Poetry United # 61.

picture credit:   http://silent-musings.tumblr.com/