How It Ends
How it ends
depends on where you are
and who you are
and why the sky is blue.
I’ll hold your hand as we walk
toward the sunset of our life,
remembering the days we laughed,
the hours we cried,
the minutes we believed would never come,
the lives passed onto through genetic material,
each cell committed to a predefined course,
set down ages and eons ago when
the big bang went boom.
And every nucleus of every atom of every molecule
of every being alive within this moment
passes back to the first moment
where it all began.
And so it begins again …
© Catherine Woods 2018
Wake Up and Smell the Cedar
Today is Wednesday. The week is half gone and I’ve done nothing. The last date I see upon the page is from last week. I’m lazy, lazy, lazy. My head is filled with words and thoughts that do not make it to the masses. I want to cry out “All is not lost”, but no one will know if I do not open my mouth. I am afraid to speak in case you beat me down, crush me underfoot, laugh and walk away. So, I keep inside all the wonders I have seen in Squamish and Pender Island. I hold the tall majestic boreal cedars hidden from official government workers and suited business men who cash to throw about on trinkets that litter their monster homes on West Vancouver’s decreasing mountain paradises. What will be left for your grandchildren if you pave it all for Jaguars and Lamborghinis? I rest my case.
© Catherine Woods 2018
