Foreboding Joy



small and scared

with buttery fingers

and Teflon hands

I cannot hold the reality of this charity


I am terrified I will lose it

What is it to be happy

to be enraptured

to be swept away in wonder?

What is it to lean back into the bosom of tenderness?

I look at my hands



but then they are filled

and you hold tight

don’t worry Beloved,

I got you.

via Daily Prompt: Wonder

That that floats above me

two voices lift a song,

but they do not harmonize

the notes clatter

ping off the other

each reaching for me to hum along

one song has sharps, stuttering rests

 endlessly played demisemihemidemisemiquavers

punctuated crescendos that raise the noise to unendurable volumes

leaving me writhing in sorrow, shame and confusion

the other song was started before my birth

it is soft like the trees shaking loose their dew onto porch shingles

it does not compete with the other or manipulate my attention

but it is relentless




its tune carries my self, a rhythmic repeat of the shape of me

it is this tune that I reach my hands up to grasp

I listen for it even as the second songs raises its tempo in an attempt to  drown

When I sing along with the kind song, I have won

that moment

that day

or maybe this week


via Daily Prompt: Above