In My Deepest January

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In My Deepest January

In my deepest January
when nightmare shadows expose
democracy's shattered, broken heart
I struggle already to remember that
more peaceful, carefree times existed.

The world I knew seems to have
vanished like ash scattered by wind,
as rage and fear fill the streets,
truth hidden by the mist of deception,
and we wonder whose voices to trust.

The television screams with endless stories,
as I use it for both information and ecape.
Dogs rest beside me, untroubled, calm,
remind me of a lost innocent time that
existed an eternity of only two months ago.

I realize now  that I have had a good life,
have memories enough for two lifetimes.
I never thought I'd be one who would 
yearn so strongly for the good old days, 
but now regret they have passed forever.

I cannot yet see beyond this darkness.
As I search for hope, I cannot find its light.
January stretches, never ending, before me,
longer than any winter I have known.
I fear tomorrow's path leads us to our doom.

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This is written for two prompts this week:
Shay's Word List
Sherry's prompt "In My Deepest January" at What's Going On?
Why?  This week I am struggling with both creativity and time.
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Sharing a few pictures of Olive, who is now 8 months old, for cuteness and smiles.
She was just spayed last week and is wearing  human 6-month-old onesie on these very recent pictures so she doesn't lick her sutures (rather than the 'cone of shame.'). She actually does not mind the onesie at all!

Today

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Today

Each voice grows sick with sorrow
as democracy crumbles like white ash.
The terrible truth echoes
through desecrated government halls,
where compassion once lived.

We are doomed to watch
our democracy's banners fade,
while the bitter winds
of autocracy gather speed,
roaring through the ruins
we once called free.

Written using words from the Word List at Shay's Word Garden

Cold

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Cold

The morning arrives with teeth. I pull on my wool sweater, corduroy pants, thick socks - armor against the assault. The furnace groans awake to wage its daily battle against the cold. Cold has a way of sharpening edges, making life brittle and fragile, turning the familiar world to glass.

I prepare the dogs' morning food, bundle myself in layers like a child being dressed for snow, pull a wool cap down to my eyebrows. Taking them out one at a time, my exposed skin screams in protest. Each breath crystallizes in the air before me. The dogs don't linger, trotting quickly to their spots and back. Olive doesn't beg for her usual walk. The air itself is a weapon, and against it I am powerless. I hold my breath, waiting for warmth to return, for the sun to remember us.

Icy morning watch -
breath hangs frozen in still air
waiting for the thaw 

A Haibun:  For Susan's prompt at What's Going On:   What Cold Is.
This is a timely prompt.  Monday our high temperature was 2 degrees, and Tuesday our high was 2 degrees.

Healing

 

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Healing

Healing is

words of understanding
the touch of a hand
listening without interruption
silent prayer

curtains open wide
to welcome the sun
rising up from a chair
silent prayer

walk on a forest path
a bowl of homemade soup
a homemade hand-written card
silent prayer.

For Sumana's prompt "Homemade" at "What's Going On?"

Dream

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Dream

The sun is shining, but it is cold
I pretend I am living another year
look out the window and see birds
smile and make a plan for a special day
with a dog as my companion
and no creep dares invade my mind
I can dream, can't I?
But sadly my dream won't come true.

For Shay's Word Garden

January 6

 January 6

Today is January 6
and I will think about it
as a normal day
first eat my breakfast
a bagel with juice
then find myself some project
to occupy my mind (art maybe).

I won't become emotional
nor overload my brain
I won't watch television
or listen to commentator mania
Since I cannot freeze time,
let today's clown show go on
without me.

Written for Shay's Word Garden Word List

Everything Remembers Something

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Everything Remembers Something

The mother remembers her own mother
and never stops yearning for her love
the woman with an elderly dog
remembers the pup it once was.

The dog remembers how it was
to frolic as a puppy
the husband remembers how happy
he was the day he married his wife.

The pastor remembers the days
when he preached to a full church
the whale remembers when it
could swim in a clean sea.

The news reporter remembers when
she could write the truth without fear
the voter remembers when elections
did not divide and promote hate.

The forest remembers when its trees
had been filled with birds
the country remembered how it was
before the frightening time that is now

and it wept.

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Written for my prompt this week for What's Going On? - "What the Heart Remembers."