Monday Morning Musings:
“Certain thoughts, it seemed had minds of their own; they wandered away from their thinkers and lived wild unchained lives.”
–Victor Lodato, Edgar & Lucy
“Laughter is sunshine; it chases winter from the human face.”
–Victor Hugo
the year travels, a winding road
marked with gates,
some for love, some for sorrow, some for hate
the road curves, wanders, and splits,
it doesn’t quit,
but rambles round from season to season–
now winter winds blow
over the quiet that is the snow,
and in the chill, we sit and wait–
await our fate–
the moon shines above, and quietly she hums
as the year travels through love and hate, and what is yet to come

Watching the snow fall
I wonder if truth lies buried under layers of ice—
there’s no true wisdom or advice
so, in the cold, we watch movies about love*,
perhaps impossible, or perhaps only kind of
a Cold War fairy tale–
Is she a princess?
Is he a god?
Without speaking, they talk
and dance, and together walk
or do they swim
in this magical world they live within?
And afterward we walk and talk
caught in the magic, forgetting
(it’s cold)
watch the pale sun setting,
sparkling the snow and making the buildings glow,
then at night. . .

Philadelphia, Old City, 3rd and Chestnut
the moon shines above, and quietly she hums
as the year travels through love and hate, and what is yet to come
my thoughts wander on their own
only sometimes making themselves known,
I dream and look lovingly at words
hear them sing like birds
flying high in the sky
and wonder why the bad news won’t stop
wishing and wanting the swamp creatures to go,
to be flushed away, to be buried in the snow,
but still it’s so–
there’s love and laughter, chasing away the blues
and yesterday’s, today’s, tomorrow’s news
while at night. . .
the moon shines above, and quietly she hums
as the year travels through love and hate, and what is yet to come
We visit my mother and sit,
visit when the day is brightly lit–or grey–
either way, we stay,
repeating comments and stories,
(perhaps they really are allegories)
like the silent princess and the god,
that vanish or rise like sun and moon
too soon to tell
(too soon the doctors say)
one day, she’s fine at noon
then lost, she sings another tune
but still–
the sun rises and sets
and we wait
yet watch the road wandering, never straight
and the moon shines above, and quietly she hums
as the year travels through love and hate, and what is yet to come
*We actually saw The Shape of Water a couple of weeks ago. I loved it so much, I told my husband that I would have stayed and watched the whole movie again. You can see the trailer here.