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The Fulcrum

i was unaware that i was
caught in a fulcrum of
endless time whizzing
like the white noise of
traffic moving on the
street below leveled

at me never really able
to penetrate beneath
my walled in psyche
keeping me safe so
that age cannot find
me except within the

particles of sand forming
a mirror where upon
i momentarily glance to
see time has captured
me there quite in the
center of endless storms

© September 2012
Renee Espriu

Hope you will bear with me as I take on something new here. I have found some software online called Real Paint World that takes doing art images online a bit further than Micro Soft Paint. I got really frustrated after lots of trial and errors and then could not, for the life of me, figure out how to save it where I could pull it into the post but finally did.  I have been so taken with a site by Rick Daddario with images and Haikus at    http://rickdaddario.com/blog.htm  (I can never come close) that I decided to go out and get some software I could try on my own.  Thanks for your patience.

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Elemental

elemental as fire and ice
my soul within me                               
gives rise to crimson
ashen lithe but strong
to cool as rivers swift
and strong allowing my
Spirit to rise in song

 

 

© September 2012 Renee Espriu

 

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Babe in Arms

i drove the highway the
distance it takes to
arrive there past all
the strip malls

traffic lights stopping
red or not, giving way
to thoughts of her

carrying her in my arms
across the living room
“shush, shush, don’t you
cry” singing soft a

lullaby bouncing her
dancing as my eyes try
to close after

working the night shift
i had a bit of nap before
he dropped her off so
mom could work her job

all in a flash as i drive
the highway there
thinking of the past of
all the other years

i pull into the driveway
i wait for her to come
down the stairs and
when she does…

the tiny infant has a
bounce beneath her
step with holes
torn in her shorts

as the fashion is for
young and layered
tops and long dark
hair she tilts

her head and smiles
where a baby use to
cry in my arms

it is time to go out
shopping and spend
time for in all the years
that have come and
gone

she is still my sweet
babe in arms
my granddaughter grown
our bond remains
strong

© August 2012 Renee Espriu

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Time’s Door

Photo by Edward Weston 1939

 

the coastal terrain whizzes
by in my effort to catch up
to claim time as my ally

drift wood laden shores
with rocky strewn beaches
such alien distant creatures

my car picks up speed on
straightaways, slowing down
on curves the car sways

when will i reach destination
unknown a room with a key
time once again has flown

walking on the sandy beach
salt spray, shells and stone
i no longer feel alone

my thoughts weave about the
elusive tide of time’s door
plying soul and spirit’s core

reaching inside to pull my
heart throughout times’ eternity
journey’s calm is wrought

as though the sea winds have
wrapped me within their embrace
helping me again to face

a world where the essence of
time flies capturing unnoticed
years unfurling tinctured rhyme

© August 27, 2012
Renee Espriu

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Quintessential

quintessential rhythms of life
pull at her like unforseen
threads tight and strong
like the chubby tiny fingers
connected to grasping arms

of all the children in her
past, present and future
calling her name as tears
were shed or laughter came
as words calmed their fears

quintessential rhythms of life
like breathing out and in
waking with each sun streaked
sky to watch patient each day
for the moon that will rise
to bring sleep’s calm sway

hoping that energy comes alive
as she wakes again dreaming
of bits and pieces of life
a reel on a camera fast forward
traveling at the speed of light

each year pages flipped in a
book the story not finished but
look and be quick as six decades
creep silent a tendriled vine
quintessential rhythms of life

© August 2012 Renee Espriu

Some people have grief over reaching age 30, 40 or even 50. Those were easy for me but this year is a milestone  60 years fast approaching and it is my turn to feel as though life has gone way too fast. Writing always helps.

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The Admirable “Mouse”

i yearn for the simplicity
of writing
fingers wrapped ’round
pen or pencil
bringing to life
unchoreographed
 tidings

unlike walking into a
warehouse office store to
view the most admirable
‘mouse’ required in
every household
 adored

awaiting the newest owner
to purchase them
taking one home to
begin the commencement
of writing via
keyboard

until i realize there seems
to be a disconnect
 between my
un-furried friend and me
nothing moving
or seen

my anxiety growing if words
cannot flow i make my
way back to the ‘super’
warehouse office store
talking to youth
in an uproar

he pointedly states that
‘it shouldn’t be
that hard’
i point out the vast
difference in age
 setting the stage

i turn on my heel to leave
him there
returning to my
mouse companion
only to find he has now
settled in

i again yearn for the
simplicity of
writing once again
fingers wrapped ’round’
pencil or pen

© August 2012
Renee Espriu

How frustrated can one become I found out today when my mouse died and found I was lost without him. Going in search of a new one and then trying to connect him was a new experience as this one does not plug in. Go figure! It probably would have been easier to simply pick up a pen and paper but as everyone seems to be, I too am tied into the world of technology and could not begin until my mouse was once again working.