Wild Heart

I am a fan of Jeanette LeBlanc's writing classes. The writings here were generated from one of her many prompts. 

What Truth Would You Tell

Path at sunset

The only truth I know-
you can love
with all your heart
you can guide
gently or firmly
you can build
from the ground up
molding and nurturing
or slapping into shape
but in the end
you can't force another
to love themselves
to find value in being on this earth
you can't force them
to live life your way
you can tell them every day
how much you love them
but in the end
they have their own journey
their own road to walk
for better or worse
it's not up to you

Poetry
Wild Heart
Wisdom

Who Were You Then

The small child
impish grin and twinkling eyes
quietly underfoot
small among the giants
The girl
who believed the boy
"you step off those stairs
I'll kill you"
The teenager
trying to fit in
but you have to choose
wild partier or smart studious one
The young woman
still feeling small
in a big girl body
pretending to be all grown up
The mom
being a wife first
letting them call the shots
but just wanting to play with her babes
The woman

Poetry
Wild Heart

Where Did It Begin

A tiny seed of thought
not even conscious
just a little niggling feeling
something was changing
take notice
and I'm on the slippery slope
to nowhere, everywhere, anywhere
I try to hold back
brace myself against the sliding
I want answers
I want to know where
and how and why
but there are no answers
just this damned sliding
into the abyss

Photo credit: Jason Williard (1983-2016)

Poetry
Wild Heart

What is the Moment That Changed Everything

I've been looking at my life lately, digging for the moments when my soul reached out and tried to move me in a different direction. There are many. Some small, almost insignificant. Some brutally painful, causing a rending of self and a searching for answers. But when I consider one moment that everything changed, I remember this.

I Am Enough

It's been a year of learning and growing. Last year at Thanksgiving, my husband bought us 23andMe genetic tests. We sent them off with anticipation of perhaps learning more about my Dad. You see, he walked out of the picture when my mom got pregnant. They were in the Air Force and as the story goes, he didn't want to be a dad so he left.

Voices in My Head

Something has changed
somewhere I made a decision
not to listen to the voices in my head
to just move forward
let them clamor in the background
tell me what they'd like
I don't hear them anymore
Ironically what's left
is almost as unsettling
I'm wandering a bit
lost in a world of unknowns
feeling like I should be somewhere
with nowhere to go
I wish I could tell you what I did
to make the voices slip away
I have no idea
Maybe I realized they weren't real
they were figments of my 

Poetry
Wild Heart
Wisdom

What Are You Nostalic For

Jason and statue

What am I nostalgic for?
simpler times
grace in movement
a strong, healthy body
a beautiful voice
singing my heart out
my son's laughter
family together at the holidays
my mom busy in her garden
buying plants together
these are all things
that slip away with age
one has to find grace 
in wisdom and understanding
one has to work harder
for a strong body
understand its limits
the voice falters
songs are no longer sung
people pass on
either through illness

Poetry
Wild Heart
Wisdom

Who Were You Before Life Changed You?

She stands
ready for this life
prepared 
from the beginning
strong, vital, alive
deep wisdom
reflected in her eyes
an old soul 
one who tends the fire
of loving, of life
the fire of change
the hearth fire
her playful spirit
twinkling eyes
and infectious smile
drawing others to her
dancing and singing
swirling in delight
digging in the earth
bringing nourishment
for body and soul

Poetry
Wild Heart

What is Asking to be Created Right Now

Right now
it's a desire to follow a trail
this tiny ribbon 
teasing its way through my brain
leaving breadcrumbs 
along a foreign path
my dreams are changing
how I feel is changing
it seems there is a treasure hunt afoot
except I haven't received the list yet
I'm a horse chomping at the bit
waiting at the starting gate
ready to run my heart out
instead, I wait
I'd like to say patiently
but there's an angst to it
the not knowing
it's starting that thing in my stomach

Poetry
Wild Heart

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