Disappear

I am.

I have not left home. Not yet. Not until tomorrow morning. I hope the coming days in Florida prove restful.

To be stuck in between dreams, for years, leaves me wanting to disappear while I finish off old memories and crave new ideas. To remain in limbo leaves me off kilter.

In Jane Austen’s Persuasion, proper manners, community, and romance fills the pages. But also spirit. I could easily fit into Jane’s 19th century.

I am. I am trying. Bending. Breaking. Falling. Obsessing over miles. The years span as eagle’s wings.

Praying. Mumbling. Beseeching spirits to know more! Craving what I cannot drink today. Reaching for the chalice far away.

This is a great start. I can persuade myself to step out and discover. To be my own heroine and find my future.

I am. Leaving, I disappear.

I am not. Now gone. I sail away on Calypso.

What if?

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Life is a tragedy until you make it a comedy. –Me

I love storytelling and dance and the creativeness of being. There is purpose in art. There is a reason we have an imagination.

But ever more, I feel squeamish at the way we are being manipulated in our thoughts by the shimmer of fame and the fortune of a few. I cry because there is a huge disconnect in Hollywood and the fortress built. I fear community adrift in a stranger’s dreams.

Perhaps we lack courage to live. Perhaps our obsession to be entertained leaves us morally weak. Fame abandons. When their story ends, what is left? Lights out and doors shut. We are left wandering and wondering what the purpose of Hollywood is all about. Hollywood feels so empty.

I say this having always wanting to be a dancer. It is in my soul to create. There is exhilaration being on a stage. Being loved for the love you create. Oh, but fleeting love.

I agree with Shakespeare that all of life is a stage. Perhaps we should admire our neighbor. Listen to their stories and be mesmerized by their dance. What if we do? What if we too share our dreams and hopes and make art?

One of the many reasons I love online blogging. We can participate in one of life’s magic elixirs, words! Cheers! J🌱

Winter Garden

sordid gazing globe
friends gather round
high noon hours
now gone

reflecting pools, moon aglow
Mad King Ludwig
starts the ball, whirling
gowns, curtsy and bow.

Wagner’s Faust resounds
sounds of mythic status
suicide pacts
dangerous acts

pertaining to the devil
who but shows
along with God
a gavel.

Rose petals
shower the floor
Marguerite
steps ever so

gently, is what she wants
reminds him
who she is
doesn’t have to be all.

God, so assured
alone, He waits
for a knock at the door
never sleeps, evermore.

footsteps creep
ever closer, she approaches
with trepidation
fear rests in her throat

winter garden
friend us now
give us faith to trust
forgiveness, reconciliation
bring forth good
gifts to bring my lover
shower him with grace.

ekphrasis poem explained