A dandelion lay tucked in the corner of my garden
but it was at last found by me.
It was pretty and puffed in fluffy white stuff
and my eyes took in the singular beauty,
Wanting to marvel closer, I kneeled and peeled
that delicate white stuff all puffed and pretty
straight out —
and to my dismay
fluff set afloat and upon its way.
And now that singular beauty is tossed,
Some beauties when held are quickly lost.
Mere babe, so tender and unknowing.
who were you?
Before thoughts were taught,
and curses and blows bound your heart in rigid fiber,
Were you trusting?
Before the door was empty,
and disappointment stole the hopeful breath within,
Were you innocent?
Before the love was lost,
and all your goodness was thrown and broken like shards of glass,
Did you love?
Dear babe, where have you gone?
Sweet tender babe, I search for you,
but find the cradle empty,
and blackened by the shadow of that man in the door.
The sun always rises, beyond the reach of ordinary men. And yet they teach, the ordinaries, how extraordinary we may be. And they preach, the ordinaries, of God within. Promises of resurrection dance in my mind but not in my heart. The sun will always rise again but not for me, nor we. The dance begins in my chest , knowing my place in this eternal mystery is small, that death I may not forestall. So I take a stone and toss it into the still lake, and the ripples grow and glimmer in the sun. And this, I know, is all I shall ever be, and all God needs.
Several years ago, I had a blog here at http://www.benwonders.com. It was a great little place where I could explore new ideas, write substandard poetry, and share a little bit about my writing. Then the unthinkable happened, I forgot to renew the domain and it was quickly snatched up by a domain squatter, much to my chagrin.
The years between then and now have not always been kind. Somewhere in that adversity, I grew a little older and a little wiser. Some beautiful moments of joy were peppered in there. So that brings us to the present, where I offer you a front row seat to my mid-life crisis. I am now at a moment of reckoning, where I have chosen to stop wishing my days away, waiting to retire, waiting to write, waiting to LIVE.
And yet for all my impatience to begin, it would seem patience is a virtue; after several years I was able to snatch my domain back. I look forward to exploring my muse, and wondering with you all.