The girl & the woman

“Tell me about the things you know.”  said the little girl

“I know that I don’t know.” the woman smiled – not really believing the girl would understand, but not being able to help herself.

“I know.” said the little girl

“Really?”  Said the woman…

“Yes. You are wise.” said the little girl.  Looking like an old soul in her slight form.  She pondered some more then said..

“I want to be like you when I grow up”

Intoxicated by the scent of her childhood

On that summer day
Intoxicated by the scent of her childhood
She remembered
The frangipani blossoms on the tree in front of her
childhood home
That beautiful bungalow all wooden house
On stilts
With hammocks underneath
And the outdoor shower made of galvanized sheets placed together in a rectangle
And Next to it
…a giant old copper tub that they used to boil sugar cane juice on the plantations in the olden days, before she was born
She remembered the caterpillars
Trailing along the branches of this tree; believing in the magic they brought…
And she remembered the white gravel yard beneath heated by the sun against her toes
As she looked up toward them,
with not a care in the world but being a child…

Forty Something

I am forty five
Curvy
With the curves in the right places
But never thin enough to satisfy

I have a master’s degree
A job that sounds important
A home
And adequate doses of family & friendships to love and be loved

I am passionate
And awake
And believe in the good, the true, the beautiful

But
I have never been married
I have no children

When the storm came
I was on the boat alone, ceilings falling in
I wondered if it was how it would end as well

The thought shook me to the core

Standing at the edge of the ocean
On the deep horizon
And the rising sun
Warming my back
I wish you were there

Tomorrow always seemed a better day
To think of you
The one I left behind

Time was timeless after all

I have known you for my whole life it seems
The idea of ‘the you’ that would meet ‘the me’
You used to visit me in my sixteen year old dreams
And my twenty, thirty and even forty year old dream

We were supposed to travel and play
And share stories
Change the world with our loving
And manifest the things
In the way only two can do

It is taking you a long time to meet me
Where did we falter?
Why the delay?
Do we even want this?

I realize
I have witnessed enough deterring examples
To sometimes get in my own way of meeting you
Lately I surmised that you are completely
Imaginary
Ephemeral
Untouchable

Are you?

Will you still view me as that sweet girl
You hoped for?
Me in this 45 year old guise
I honestly do not know where the time went.
Or why I gave up on wanting our children
Where dallying in the shallows was safer
And feeling hurt from missing you…

the nostalgia unbearable

Sometimes I become furious with the rules
That suggest I should care
That I should want the things I opted not to have
Otherwise I will be incomplete to it

Is my fury with ‘society’ and the world? Or is it really with myself?

Where is the place for a forty five year old single woman?
No kids or divorces or separations to reflect some kind
Of grown up experience?

In Jane Austen’s time they were the writers
The poets
The spinsters
Has life really changed much since then?
When it comes to the inner life of a woman striving to be enough?

I do not know the answers
I pose the questions
They keep me up at times

I recognize it is possible to be complete and whole yet know
There is something missing

Does such a woman really deserve empathy or sorrow or [yuk] pity for not fitting into the normal mold?
Or is she really an Amazon?

A resilient phoenix?

Who made these rules?
Who carves out the new ones?
It is a difficult time
My heart is unsettled
The world is changing exponentially

The storms are destroying life as I know it

I have no answers
Only more questions


“the moment I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, never knowing how foolish that was.  Lovers do not finally meet somewhere, they are in each other… ”  –rumi