Dressed

Moods conspire in visions

Floor length gowns and dripping jewels

Or handmaid shift with a smudge of grit

For a life hard lived,

Dressed in thoughts of uniforms pressed

Immaculate and shining

Or a simple gingham dress

To pin the laundry to the line.

It could be anyone

Only imagination keeps alive

This self standing here lonely in a distant room

A wallflower waiting to be dressed,

To become anyone.

Faceless she waits for hands to trace,

To measure length and cut

Sewing her costume for the ball

That she will never see,

Turned this way and that

Like a lovers dance with her creator,

Does she dream of tomorrow

Of robes and finery

As she stands naked

Ever waiting

For the beauty to become her.

The simple art of life

We start out so simply it seems,

One grain, then another added

Almost like ingredients to create

Our dream life.

A cup packed tight with well wishes

With a host of thoughts blended in,

Memories in cups and spoons measure perhaps,

Or joyfully tossed into the mix,

Building up each day

Each year that at times can feel so very long

And we look back through the rearview mirror

And wonder where it all went.

But we keep building higher,

Smoothing the edges

Peering through windows at beautiful sights,

Embracing the light at the end of day

That flickers and finds us contemplating peace

Near water’s edge where the moon glistens

And the skies bend near to hear our prayers.

Each step leading us higher

To the soul we become

To the richness of life that finds us

At life’s end,

A magnificent masterpiece,

Slipping into a far off place,

Taken and swept out by the tides

Into the everything and nothing

That we are.