Another Day for Poetry

Saturday I started the day  at 6 AM with the usual two hours of writing.  I went garage-saling to find the perfect pots for my new plants.  The day grew hotter, but still I planted.  Then I greeted the Rapture with a pint of chocolate java mash icecream in hand and visions of what tomorrow would look like dancing around in my head.  I can't help that part.  I'm a writer.  Secretly I hoped my joke proved to be true and that a huge spaceship would soar overhead.  I sat outside surrounded by plants, dogs, and hubby.  The sky clouded over, then the clouds passed up by.  A little part of me was disappointed that I didn't get to chat with aliens, but I kept that to myself and finised up the coffee icecream. 

I thought that in celebration of the new day I should post a poem from my past.  I didn't last week because I was too busy writing one up for Rachelle Gardner's blog.  So here goes.

People have always discounted and condemned what they can’t understand. My family never grasped the fact that I didn’t fit in with the rest of society when I was growing up. They often criticized everything I did and said, and most of all my devotion to all things supernatural. It was one thing to believe, but to make it a part of your life, to see God in everything so that you’re unbiased and willing to find perfection in something considered silly by others, well that was useless, insane. Nah, it’s just the mind of a writer, this writer. I do believe I wrote this one for my guardian angel.
A glimpse of the heavens is but a desire for man, so they tell me,
But when you angel light dances in my eyes I know better.

They say you’re not real. You’re only in my mind.
I’d be a fool to dwell on you too much,
But when you take my hand, I know better.

I’m told you are abstract. I should hold on to more tangible things.
I must be going crazy, but when you put your arms around me, I know better.

They say I’ll have a life filled with loneliness. I have so many years ahead of me,
Why waste them on you.

They scream They shout. They cry. They try to control me,
But when you spread your wings and we fly, I know better.