UNCERTAINTY

What does it mean

If your deep dreams

Derive from land

That slew her soul?

How can you live

And hear her voice

In the soft tones

Of time's smooth toll?

Why does your heart

Beat loud and ache

While you writhe as

She rests in mire?

Where is the realm

Of you and her

And children born

Of sweet desire?

When did she know

All hope had flown

And left her lost

Hidden from sight?

Who sees her now

Embossed turquoise

From paradise

Once shining bright?

CHANGE OF DAYS

I was born facing far too far to go

But Thursday’s child is never merited

With any plan but that vaguest premise –

No directions can be inherited.

Each day I now stare at that vast blue plain

And count the creamy crests of froth and foam.

I try to see the break ‘tween sea and sky,

Asking if that blurred fracture is my home.

Wet sand around stubbed toes is comforting

And waves wash over wounds of wasted days.

The breeze kisses my face and tired eyes

Sun rays coddle the scars of old affrays.

One day I will venture away again,

When all high tides are low and big swells small.

But just for now I’m born of Wednesday,

Trapped by injustice’s cyclonic squall.

Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child must work for a living ...
(Nursery Rhyme, author unknown)