Poetry ~ Traces

 a dark storm
obscured her path
sending her back in time
in search of traces
left by a younger self


her obsession,
the necessity to leave clues
on the path she'd traveled
in preparation for lost thoughts
in a future filled with chaos


she is grateful for the traces
that remind her

of a path less traveled
and clear signs of a future self
destined to leave her mark

Poetry ~ Does this really Matter?

Your point of power is in the present moment.”

The Speakers
It's silly, really
the way I scribbled
the words on my wrist
in permanent black marker

"Does this really matter?" it asks
"Nope," comes my reply

yet, all day
everyday
my mind wanders off
into dark corners,
whining, whimpering
"Woe is me!"


a quick flash of my wrist
and the light comes on

stay focused on
what really matters!

what matters is simple
right here, right now

this moment

if you don't like
the present moment
change it,

if you can,
or practice the
art of acceptance