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Unique and distinguished

We yet share

Woe and distress

Common shame and suffering

That in shadows full of dread

We feel them larger and unweildy

Stronger and unyielding

Then they appear once in the light

There are some, it’s true

Who feel not life’s great and awful sadness

Inexplicable angst

Isolated troubles

Suffering of spirit

When life’s gone all awry

Every step is wrong

Rolling on the floor in writhing agony

Alone and yet together

All this pain of life we weather

Hoping for an end

For some peace

For something better

For anything at all to lift us out of sorrow

From the sages to the pages

Sayings written once or twice

Hang on to love

Be open hearted

One more minute

One more hour

When subjected to the fires

Flames upon each wound

A subtle transformation

A phoenix rising plumed

Hold on to love

Keep going

Take your rest along the way

Remember this is common

Part of life to grieve this day

As the tide returns to shore

One wave after another

Joy will find you in the moonlight

Joy will find you in the dusk

Joy will wake you in the morning

Joy returns little by little

In that flower startled beauty

In the clouds suspended there

In the laughter of your loved ones

In the twilight somber falling

Common sorrow

Common beauty

Will find you there upon the sand

Unique and still distinguished

Healing slowly everywhere

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A Distinction

Does the rose have hopes of red

A longing for a certain shade

Velvet texture crimson

And is that rose disappointed

By its hue of white yellow or pink

Or does that rose grow

In the shade of its genetic distinction

Glowing softly in the evening light

And will the dandelion cry

That it is not a rose

And lacks the thorns and reverence

Bestowed upon its kin

Will it wish to be gathered into bouquets

Symbolizing love

Or is it happy to be medicinal

Golden sunspots on the lawn

Will it revel in its distinction

Pithy roots and hollow stemmed

And will I grow in my distinction

Into the form genetically bestowed

Taking talent and experience

Mixed with trials and errors

And grow within and without my bounds

Not looking at the rose or at the dandelion

With envy or disdain

Can I pull courage from the earth itself

And hopes down from the sky

Transmuting ethereal energy into a

Common cosmic flow

Of love

Will I dance in gentle breezes

And bend low in the storm

Will the sunlight bid me open

And the twilight bid me close

But most of all will I grow here

In this individual distinction

Let my colors be my colors

Without regret or woe

Let my texture be my texture

Each leaf and petal flowing

Out from center

In its predetermined pattern

And will I choose to walk a path

And a destiny pursue

Which will add to life’s collection

Of bountiful blessings

Will I bloom

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Daily Poem 11/21/2020

“If there’s a next time just don’t open the box.”

Pandora finished her mirror work for the day

She looked over at the pile of boxes left

In the corner of her loft, and sighed

For a hundred years she managed to resist

The scroll work invited closer examination

Delicately carved wooden curiosities

Polished grains and knots

Brass fastenings intricately wrought

How could she not take a tiny peek within

To unveil a mystery

To satisfy her hunger for the truth

She traced the scores and patterns

Listening to the music lifted from the trails

She wondered at the tiny hinges

Admired little button nails

She worked the catch to see if it would move

And when it did she gasped

She didn’t mean to open it

Didn’t mean to pry

She meant only to refasten and

Set the box aside

As her finger moved the dainty hook

Towards the waiting eye

The hook slipped past without a catch

And up the lid did bump

For a moment, when it dropped back down

She fumbled hook to eye

She thought perhaps she managed

Not to loose the contents, then

She felt a pang of sorrow

Pandora knew the world would change

It was time to move again

Words echoing in mind

“Just don’t open the box. How hard is that?”

Each precious box beguiled her

Intoxicatingly called her

She knew that down the road someday

She would falter

Curse the gods who would impart such

Dangerous allure

As the boxes full of woes given care over to her