Days Twenty-one to Thirty | Three Lines for 30 Days

Day 21 |
It’s not what you think, she’s just scared.
Scared of being left, forgotten, dismissed or worse.
She normally doesn’t drive the car but she is along for the ride.

Day 22 |
Mirror, mirror on the phone.
I feel the fear from your time zone.
A lovely reminder we’re not alone.

Day 23 |
There is a hole in the fabric of our humanity this day.
A gash of our ignorance and pain.
Please let me wake from this dream.

Day 24 |
In the end she gave me her very best wisdom and knowing.
‘Don’t settle my girl’- she told me, ‘once you do, the climb out is hard.’
And she worried that her sensitive daughter wouldn’t endure the world she was leaving behind.

Day 25 |
There’s a difference between strong and tough.
One endures and lasts, the other fights back until it breaks.
Vulnerability and courage grant being to the strong among us.

Day 26 |
I don’t know what it means either but I’m certain there is something to this.
A full trip around the sun and you are here, a timely creative return.
Perhaps there is a grand plan. a method to the madness, a deeper truth.

Day 27 |
A new dream is coming to remind, reclaim and lift the veil.
I’ve been in the dirt, on my knees choking on a false despair.
With fierce grace I will know my purpose and leave my legacy.

Day 28|
Can you hear it? A cello in the distance drawing each note exquisitely slow.
I felt you long before you entered the room, I waited knowing, sweetly aching.
The earthy intoxication of amber, vanilla and orchid released a flood of want. Of need.

Day 29|
One last night to shed and burn all that no longer serves.
A return to love through forgiveness and belonging.
A map of desire to show me the way.

Day 30 |
The end is the beginning, the aperture of my heart opened wide.
Giving, receiving, leaving, taking, relinquishing, embracing every bittersweet moment with each deep breath.
Illusion dissolves into pure awareness and I find myself steeped in the true meaning of my word, that word is enraptured.

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a diverse, engaging and authentic poetry magazine. For most of that time a daily publication, it was always diverse and original, and free-to-read by all.

Melissa Mirabai Zeligman

Written by

Woman, artist, poet, demure deviant, culinary concubine & says anything in the dark. Motto: both/and Mantra: No pleasure, no treasure. Desires all things SOFT

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a diverse, engaging and authentic poetry magazine. For most of that time a daily publication, it was always diverse and original, and free-to-read by all.

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