gratitude, katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling, women

Out Breath

green grass field and mountain

‘This may be the last time I see you.
I’m so glad you came.’
The trip was a whirlwind,
but of course we made it.

She was the same as I remembered,
a bit crass and a lot stubborn,
proud of the life she had made,
reminding us to focus on what matters.

‘Breathe the joys of life deep into your Self’
Family. Friends. Home.
‘Breathe out life’s expectations’
Title. Status. Money.

‘Does a fancy car or impressive title define you?
Are you what you have,
what you do?
Something else entirely, perhaps?’

The countryside, as we drove,
a pine tree blanket over lush hills,
exposed the river now and then,
signs of moose crossings dotted our path.

We never did see a moose,
but we did, for a brief time, get a window
into another world, one of simply living,
a reminder to focus on what matters.

We may not see her again.
She will be cherished, always reminding us,
‘Life is lived somewhere between
the in-breath and the out-breath.’

We’re so glad we went.

katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling, women

The trouble with time

shallow focus of clear hourglass

Her hand in mine.
A tender smile graced my lips.
Her breath, laboured.
I wished for peace.

A lifetime of moments
cresting on a nation’s birthday.
A day of celebration
becomes an ending for one.

My mind flooded with memories
of dinners together and days in the sun.
My heart tight with grief
reminded of all I have left.

Time came, and it went.
Another year, another month, another day, another hour.
Time, in the end, can not be bargained.
And, there is never quite enough.

gratitude, intuition, katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling

Dandelion Wisps

background image beautiful blur bright

Today, tomorrow, yesterday. Now.
A daisy in full bloom
calling a bumble bee
to its nectar-filled heart.

The radiance of the sun
peeking through shape-shifting clouds
against a cerulean canvas
encouraging a seedling into being.

Dandelion wisps
dancing on the wind
blown from their
stable stem.

A world in motion
evolving with effortless creation.
Life flowing along the
stream of now.

katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling

FOCUS

Tsk, tsk. Tsk, tsk. Tsk, tsk.
A single grackle ruins an
inspired moment.

The delicate twitter of the yellow finches
as they flit through branches.
And the gentle coo of the mourning dove
as she guides from her perch.
A northern cardinal chirping
‘pretty girl, pretty girl’.

 
All softly unconvincing
next to the incessant
Tsk, tsk. Tsk, tsk. Tsk, tsk.

 
Isn’t that too often the way?

 

katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling

A bump in the road

it happened too fast
the magic of the moment gone
into oblivion
as quickly as it had arrived

the reverberation echoed
penetrating her core
held in limbo
wondering, what happened?

a window shattered
spewing fragments of glass
caramel macchiato
splattering whipped cream across her lap

the din turned to noise
confusion palpable
cinnamon buns
burning sweetness into her nostrils

a hand on her head
applying pressure
wet cheeks
salt on her lips

time passed, hopeful
turning forever tragic
consciousness lost
a memory in chaos

Then peace.

katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling

Math and Magic

arid bryce canyon clouds color

Standing in the rhythm of numbers
Predictable, safe
Black or white
Piano keys singing a melody

Dancing away with a tentative step
Courage, discomfort
Shades of gray
Storm clouds threatening an explosion of thunder

Tempting to cower beneath stability
Doubt, uncertainty
Depths of whiteness
White curtains billowing in a white room

Braving the fear with a jete
Determination, faith
Symphony of colour
A brilliant rainbow coaxed into being by the slightest glimmer of light

drabble, katharine griffiths, katharinegriffiths, Poetry, storytelling

The love of a partner

couple elderly man old

It had been several days since he’d eaten, and the water wasn’t going to last much longer. Every day was the same. Wake up. Drink water. Nap. Drink more water. He was hungry. The smell didn’t bother him, but he was sad that she had changed. He couldn’t understand why she wasn’t talking to him. Confused, he nudged her, snuggled her, kissed her cheek. He was getting weaker.

The banging was intense. The door crashed open. People arrived. He heard one of them speak.

‘This elderly woman has been dead for a while. Check that dog’s collar for his name.’