An eclipse of another sort

Eclipse

I hide behind you to cover
my shyness. Unless I meet
a kindred spirit, and then,
I blossom as a new rose
in summer’s rain. You hide behind me
to cover insecurities, forgetfulness, and
loneliness. We shade each other from life’s
brightness, rage, and horror; protected,
safe.
© Catherine Woods 2017

A door opens and what's on the other side

Today I found something I wasn't expecting.

A Door 

Today I took a photo of a gate into a cemetery. I walked
through it unaffected, unexpected. Seeing more than headstones,
I continued walking past Chinese, Greek, and Cyrillic characters,
past benches, past cannons, past fountains, past guns. Past soldiers
graves, I spied a tank being cleaned.

Today I walked through a cemetery and thought of my father,
interred in another cemetery 16 kilometers to the west, and
gave him what he deserved,
my forgiveness and my love.

© Catherine Woods 2017

Visiting Yorkville

Yorkville was the home of folk musicians and the crunchy granola crowd in the 60s and 70s. Now it full of trendy expensive clothing stores and youngsters playing Pokemon. But I found my muse there.

I Found My Muse in Yorkville

She was sitting on the corner of Yorkville and Hazelton,
waiting for me to find a geocache nearby,
hoping I’d open my mind to the possibilities of longing,
wishing I’d be here at this moment to witness a miracle.
But I have to be patient (so not a trait I’m really good at),
so I’ll keep waiting for the peace of ideas,
for the calmness of existence,
for the future of many tomorrows
that I will see
  eyes open,
  heart beating,
  welcoming my muse
  to speak through me.


© Catherine Woods 2017

An exercise in removal

1. Take something timeless.
2. Remove bits here and there.
3. Present.

Summer Fragment

From Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare

A summer's day,
more lovely and more darling.  May
summer's all shine often,
every chance changing course.
Eternal summer fade or lose or wander
in eternal time. So breathe or
see lives live life.


© Catherine Woods 2017

One of many thoughts on time

After watching the movie "Arrival", I wrote this.

Time:  Beginning, Middle, End

                          For Michael

I am afraid of time.

It doesn’t stop. It goes on and on

without purpose,

without pleasure,

without passing a clue

to where we might go next.

When time began, we did not exist.

When time ends, we’ll be long since dead.

And in the middle, time takes us

on a journey

where we can follow or we can lead,

but we cannot stop, for to stop is to

leave that which we know

and enter that which we can only imagine,

where time is a robin,

a snail,

a frog,

a snake,

two cuttlefish,

four bison,

a murder of crows,

a school of fish,

the constellation Orion, and

the Milky Way galaxy;

out there beyond the universe,

beyond time.

© Catherine Woods 2017

Ending this day on a welcoming note

Poets Tweet

Poets are young and old. Poets like
mathematics. Poets have parents, husbands
and children. Poets eat oatmeal and peas, not at the same time

© Catherine Woods 2017

No one is listening these days

Watch and Listen

How do you not see the homeless man

sleeping in the diner’s doorway?

How do you not hear of another

indigenous youth suicide?

You hide behind closed doors and

fill your head with empty promises to

donate money or volunteer your time tomorrow.

Instead open your heart and give a hand today

when the need is greatest and the cause is just and

a lonely orphan from across the sea

looks out at you with eyes forlorn and lost.

© Catherine Woods 2017