Silence Found

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2019/03/17/wordle-395/

Three years it took

To find the silence

Fires had bellowed

Across the earth

Bowing beams of

Houses and hearts

Before burning every

Framed room, fiber

Devastating forests

Dreams and souls…

Prayers like incense

Lifted, Heaven opened

Grace rains came cool

Tender wave upon wave

Replenishing land, causing

Seed to quicken, flourish again.

Having found silvered silence

Luminous riches folded within…

I put on its complementary

Garment of writing

Danced mute song of praise.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Dragonfly/damselfly Image: Pixabay.com

Scapegoat’s Notes

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2019/03/03/wordle-393/

Would that you might have

Deleted the day I was born

Before my eyes could focus

And see the truth in yours…

That you never loved me.

In every “love ya” printed on

A birthday note, I heard a liar

Making poor pretense of being Mom…

You were maternally corrupt

Smug in your superiority as the adult.

You called me stupid, naive, as though

Your bitter cynicism, disillusionment

Regret for irrevocable choices made

Were medals to be coveted…I think

You envied my chances not yet taken.

You mocked everything about me…

In particular, my hope that there

Was more ahead of me in life

Than the role of your scapegoat.

You despised me with a fire beyond

Passion’s cool describing and belief

By others…consummate actress

Outside our home, none of your peers

Would catch you in act of cruelty…nor

Dad, who kept you on delusive pedestal.

But there was a Witness…the One who matters.

I didn’t need to send God a memo

Sixty-some years later He’s still

Picking up the pieces of young soul

You shattered over and over…and

Pasting me together again and again.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Image: Pixabay.com

Bright Vials of ‘Maybe’s’

https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2019/02/24/wordle-392/

It was never going to be a smooth ride

Naive, I stepped right into Love’s wormhole

Believing for fairness, just times and tides

Collecting bright vials filled with “maybe’s”

But Fate had beaucoup trials slated…

Consequences dependent not on whether

I faithfully paid my tithes, attended church

But which way I’d decide at every crossroads.

I was ill-equipped to make wise choices.

Will the voices inside ne’er cease harsh chide?

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.