Recently I took a creative journey with my daughters and friends to Teotihuacan, Mexico.  The trip inspired me to write some poems.  Here are two. Maybe more will follow.

I Arrive Home

An ancient country,

Backward people,

Bad water,

Dirty,

Smelly.

I arrive.

I begin to die to exhausting,

Paralyzing voices in my head,

Telling me what to do,

How to live,

Who to be.

I soar to the heights

Of eagles.

I bathe in extravagant,

Undiscriminating

Love.

I stay.

A rich country,

Gentle people,

Thirst quenching,

Cleansing,

Refreshing,

Aroma filled.

I arrive home.

 Shackles

It was a beautiful,

Simply elegant

Dress

Complex in the making

First worked in muslin

To test the style and fit.

Then in demure, earth toned

Tiny flowered calico.

A shirtwaist with

Placket, hand worked button holes and collar,

Tiny, perfect pleats

Darts, waistband, belt,

Almost completed when

Someone said,

“What a foolish waste of time.

You could earn enough in a few hours’ time

To buy that silly thing.”

I listened,

And on went the shackles.

(Let it be known that I allowed this.)

And the jail cell closed on the joy of its creation.

Away went the dress,

Unfinished.

Off to work went I, “earning”.

I listened for years.

Years became decades.

Two,

Then three.

A lifetime for some.

The shackles remained.

I railed at the jailor

I begged for release.

Until, finally, painfully I realize,

That the jailor was – is me.

I have the key.

It is my voice, and only my voice that can say,

“Foolish – no, not so much.

Creating feeds my wonderful, foolish soul.

I think I will create some more.”

The shackles drop.

I replace them with anklets of flowers.

I will create.

I spread my wings again,

Breathe deeply,

And fly.