when one door closes,
another door opens,
and air of another world floats in
like a river of light
with stars and shadows of leaves
that once trembled on the trees
in the valley you’ve never visited;
spirits of fire sparkles
illuminating the space
making hallways seem
not as lonely dim light tunnels,
but pathways to opportunities.
[the Dagaz rune image was copied from somewhere my memory no longer holds where. thank you.]
Wrinkled scarred palm
Holding Scrabble squares
That spell “wait not.”
I sure understand
The message is so loud
In its calm manner of delivery,
And yet I don’t listen.
I watch stars in her loose hair
Figures in her tattooed hands
They seem to care
To shake hands with me,
And yet they are of life
So far away from me,
In the world where I can never tread
Unless in sleep.
I dream as I walk,
Perhaps still waiting for the right
Moment? Person? Word?
Perhaps I care too much
To think what will be and how,
And on what terms,
And how much work is to be put forth.
I must be lazy.
Or maybe I’m afraid of something.
I wait, as I watch
The wind bringing yellow leaves again.
the image was copied from https://www.google.ca/search?biw=1366&bih=625&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=SFRYXcnzBsSv-gTj56bICA&q=scrabble+w&oq=scrabble+w&gs_l=img.3..35i39j0l9.16587.18437..20028…0.0..0.99.677.8……0….1..gws-wiz-img…….0i67.LVPNcyDY-5Q&ved=0ahUKEwjJt6Xg0IrkAhXEl54KHeOzCYkQ4dUDCAY&uact=5#imgrc=l1y__OIlfDm3vM: and maraudered by me. thanks.