Saturday, March 9, 2013

Embrace




Although the day is cold, my heart is warm
Glowing like the embers of a fire, red hot
Burning deep inside, consuming my every thought and breath
My mind spins as I find myself in your arms
Knowing if we are miles apart,  inside my soul, you are with me
Space and time can never part us
Our love roars like a fire
Nothing stands in its way
The universe has never seen a love such as this
Together our hearts are entwined, like a vine
Growing together, stronger than ever
Your gentleness and strength encompass me
In sweet embrace, my heart overflows


Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Wildcat









































He sat and stared at the distant window, restlessly looking to and  fro. His crying almost inaudible to human ears. He waited in hopes of catching a glimpse of life from inside. His meal dotted with snow, he huddled over it, trembling, attempting to finish it, not knowing if this was to be his last. His hollow stomach quickly  filled, he continued to gorge himself, knowing survival was all that mattered. He glanced around in haste, perking up his ears at every noise. An owl hooted in the distance, as if to warn him of a nearby thief. Breaking the ice with his frozen hand, he watched the freezing water rush by. His tongue, swollen like a dry, hot sponge  touched the cold, icy wetness, waking him out of his stupor. A stray dog bounded toward him. He knew her well. The neighborhood ruffian, who would leap at the chance to rip a small animal  to shreds. She had the nose of a bloodhound and the heart of a lion. But he was faster, or at least he hoped so. Suddenly, while he lapped at the creek, she stopped in her tracks as his scent hit her nose. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her fur bristle, her low growl starting to resonate through the creek bed. He knew this was it. The time he had been waiting for. The time to run like a gazelle in the wilds of Africa. He gulped a quick breath before racing through the trees, leaving her barking at the wind.


He imagined himself going to a sweet young thing, snuggling in the night. Quickly, he wiped the image from his mind. He had many friends that had been caught in that net and he liked his freedom. He was a wildcat, after all. He really didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Of course, the warmth of a cuddle would make his nights more pleasant. But, was it really all it was cracked up to be? He thought not. Being on his own had its perks. As he shook off the cold damp night, he continued to talk to himself. Going solo he could come and go as he pleased, not answering to anyone. He liked that sort of thing. Being his own boss, so to speak. Maybe someday he would think differently, if the right sort of gal came along. But at this stage of the game, he was the Lone Ranger. Who needs Tanto anyway? He surely didn't. Life was complicated enough, without worrying about a sidekick, anyhow. Food was hard enough to come by. Why worry about splitting it with another hungry beggar? No sirree... Not in your life. Not if he could help it. At least not for now.... maybe someday. He stopped to catch his breath and sit for a spell. He had survived.... again.

In the days and nights that followed, the temperatures rose and fell like the notes in a carousel song. Dreaming of the soon-to-be spring, he slept. In what must have been a week's time, he slowly came to. As if to awaken from a foggy coma, he saw a bright, warm light. He let it shine on him and warm his being. He could see it through the slits of his eyes, so bright, so warm and beautiful. He slowly stretched and opened his eyes to the sound of  baby birds piercing his ears. Spring had finally come, in all her glory.




Homeless






This camping business wasn't all it was cracked up to be. When she was a kid, she used to  love huddling deep inside that old red sleeping bag and sleeping on a lumpy, old army cot. This was nothing like that. She had made a make-shift tent out of an old bed sheet and a broom handle. Thank God she was crafty. Mom had always said she could make something out of  nothing. That was in the kitchen, not in the woods! In all of her wildest dreams, she never imagined that she would be making her bed on a pile of newspapers, like a bum. Where did she go wrong? 

 It all seemed like a blur. The bills, the marriage, the house....all swirling above her head like a silent tornado. Now she was left holding the pieces of her broken life, with nothing but her beautiful blue-eyed, girl. If it wasn't for her, she didn't know what she would do. She had to be strong  for her, if nothing else. After all, she would always be her baby's mama and nobody could take that from her... nobody. 

 When they had talked about camping out at the park, they didn't have grandiose plans. They just figured, it was free and relatively safe. She had always told her daughter about the fun she had as a kid, camping with her family. She forgot to mention how she buried her head in her pillow as her dad bounded up the mountain in that pink International 4-door pickup, deathly afraid that she would somehow fall off the edge of the cliff. She had been petrified of heights, but that was nothing like this. She tried to put herself back there, reading her Seventeen magazine, without a care in the world. Life was so simple back then. Now all she could think about was, how dark this place was. Didn't they have street lights at the park? Every little snap of a  twig put her on alert. She felt like a soldier on guard duty. She decided that she wouldn't sleep tonight. Instead, she would watch over her little girl and make sure she rested. Looking down at her face, she saw an angel. Her blonde hair glowing in the moonlight, resting peacefully. She was so brave and strong. She knew in her heart that they would make it through this together. This was just a minor setback, a hitch in her get-along.  Everything was gonna be alright. She kept telling herself that. She had to. 

She started to tremble as her mind followed every sound in the night. Trying so hard to not let it break her. She thought about her dad's scrape knuckle breakfasts. Those were the best! Her dad was a great cook and breakfasts were his specialty, with eggs over-easy, hash-browns, bacon and toast. The thought of it made her stomach growl, like a big dog. She began to think of places she could go for a cheap breakfast in the morning, seeing those golden arches glow in her mind's eye. All she wanted was a 10 cent cup of coffee. Did they even have those anymore? She thought of all the places she might be able to find a scrap of food discarded, haphazardly. In her mind, she was a squirrel foraging for food. Not for herself, but for her precious baby. She would never let her go hungry. At least, not for very long. She thought of God and wondered what she had done to deserve this punishment. No, she could not blame him. This sort of  thing happened to a lot of good people. It was the sign of the times. She didn't know exactly what put her here, but she knew she needed to find help. She would set out to go to a church tomorrow and see if there was anyone that could help her find shelter for her and her darling daughter.

In this thought of peace and the hope of promise, she let her eyes and her heart rest, even if just for a little while.