Today… being numb from self-examination, and
more attuned to shadows than the source of shadows,
she yearned for a pleasance of living without remorse,
or the wistful mulling of past failures, where true love
formed on the edge of breaking waves…
.
And so often, her centers were
consumed with all she’d been through,
(and not where providence was bearing her),
content [in her boat] to be alone, she languished
quietly for what was envisioned in
her many woolgathering’s,
to be whole of
mind and spirit,
to be caressed and
loved with no condition or fears,
fitted perfectly with someone who filled
the emptiness so wholly imagining another’s
heart beating together with hers in oneness
laughing and loving…
.
But all that she
hoped for remained as mist…
.
So she drifted,
pulling the oars lightly,
upon a stream purling lazily,
where ripples lapped the shores in
monotone, and her hearts garden erred into
an inevitable autumn upon which leaves browned and fell…
.
richard lloyd cederberg
8/2020
          Between the Cracks - A Monumental Journey Series