Angst and Anguish

Desert Soul

Late November I’ve been walking in the desert of my soul
Along the dry, uncertain bedrock of a dead stream.
A stream that once sparkled and moved swiftly, with assurance,
that clamored over rocks and broken trees,
Racing to some mindless destination.

Until Spring, when the floods came to kill a child at play
and rip away the chiseled outline of the riverbed.

I step cautiously not to falter among the silent stones left uncovered,
Wandering lost in the vast, unchartered,
long-forgotten emptiness left behind,
To find a crooked path that takes me where I do not know.
Little strength to move on, I stop frequently to rest.

A white-tailed rabbit running in the brush
Rouses my delight and wonder.
He stops and listens for direction, then vanishes in the dust.
Leaving me to meander the riverbed of my life.

©Darlene Lancer 1993

Canyons of My Mind

The canyons of my mind that guard the waterways of life —
Forever watching river rafts and passersby floating in their gaiety,
I walk along the banks staring out as life goes by,
Endlessly watching from the distant shore.

Unable to hear the silent laughter,
Unable to see but a few feet ahead,
Unable to touch their smiling faces,
Unnoticed, I make my way through
canyons that surround me.

There was a time when I had dreams,
When I had plans and hopes and schemes,
They have no meaning to me now.
Just endless waiting in vast empty canyons,
I can’t see out of or through.

Waiting

Waiting. Waiting for life to begin.
Waiting for love to come in.
Frozen in time.
Tic, Tic, Tic.

Life is vast. Life is bold. Life is wild.
Tic, Tic.

Immovable walls surround me.
A gale slams against my door.
Obscurely, healing crawls with dubiety,
While entropy grinds on.
Tic.

Destruction silently lurks.
A virus, the wind, a word, an accident
Break me while I sit waiting.
Death does not wait.
I cannot wait.

The Engagement Ring

A solitaire danced above
A swirl of twirling light,
Radiating timeless love,
Promised by my shining knight.
Diamonds blazed in each direction.
For me, she was, like him, perfection.

I wore my ring around the clock.
Washed ten thousand times.
Daily it was knocked and jarred.
Platinum prongs were loose and marred.

Baby diamonds disappeared.
Each one I grieved in despair,
Though stronger it became,
Repair upon repair.

Bit by bit it dimmed and changed.
New diamonds mixed with old.
Through the years its value waned–
Prongs soldered with white gold.

Too delicate for life,
It scratched me exercising,
I often hid my ring away.
Unfettered, bygone compromising,
At last, I took it off to stay.

The Gordian Knot

A bond scarred by guilt and grief
Sewn in an unspeakable past
Tied by blood with a common fate,
Three lives marred by shadows cast.
Victims of lies and love and hate,
Trust defiled, years lost apart
Mother and child split asunder
Tender limbs torn from the heart.

Now a man I hardly know
Meets me for a while.
I sense there’re things he will not show
Beneath his friendly smile.

I see a wounded teen I left behind
Whom I fear losing once again.
As silent doubt haunts my mind,
I smile, too, and then
We chat with lips half-sealed.
Uplifted for another day.
But soon returns my heart concealed
Filled with words I never say.

All parents fret when youth leave home,
Cut the cord, and make their life their own.
They leave emptiness that can never be restored.
Mothers sadly rouse the tenderness
Of happy times they knew.
But when memories are robbed and few
A knotted past can’t be straightened or renewed.

My mind churns up crimes I can’t acquit
And reruns pain from long ago
Yet every day I feed it,
I eat the seeds I sow.

To forgive ourselves and one another
For a knotted past we can’t undo
Frees this cancer from our family
To recover and begin anew.

Letting Go

How do you soothe a heart that yearns
and forget the unlived dreams you keep?
How do you let go of what you never had
While death crawls silently in sleep.

When the future holds uncertainty,
How do you leave hope behind?
How do you mind the seeds you’ve sown
Without wishing for what can’t be grown?
The heart’s longing and aim remain
Ever tied to Sisyphus’ stone.

How do you pause the snow birds’ flight
or a praying mantis mating?
How can you keep migrations waiting
or deter a moth from circling the light?

It’s hard to accept what never was
Fruitless searching for the prize
While ignoring the hungry child inside,
In stillness where love and peace abide.

Tomorrow

Green buds coming up
too slow, I thought,
Will they grow?
I don’t know, perhaps they’ll die.

The stems are barren, just a leaf or two;
Some are sickly with white fly.
Another vine looks even worse,
No leaves at all, just tips of green.

This one has no chance, I judged,
while gazing at the light green buds.
A soft voice whispered: “Patience, Wait and See.”
No, I can’t believe.

I need proof right now these plants will grow,
I’m too afraid, I cannot wait
For what tomorrow brings.
Black is all I see.
I cannot trust, nor can I hope,
For then who would I be?

©Darlene Lancer 2003

Initiation On Point At Karabel’s Dancewear

I cover my toes with white lamb’s wool,
And slip on pink satin toe shoes.
At last my own!
I wrap ’round my ankles
Pink satin ribbon,
Crisscross, tie, and tuck in place.

Years of échappes and pirouettes,
Dancing Swan Lake’s Love Duet.
I watch pros rub battered, bleeding feet
and don their broken, tattered shoes
in dressing rooms moist with dancers’ sweat.

I long for arches leaning over toes,
But on point, my feet soon ache,
Too flat and weak
To break the inner soles
And wear away those satin toes,
That mark the ballerina I yearn to be.

War and Peace

I collapse upon a bench beneath the palms
To watch a twilight surf.
The wide horizon clears my weary eyes,
And wet salt air subdues my city breath.
Purple, pink, and orange skies ablaze in sinking fire
Revive my treadmill mind.

Whitecaps rise, then disappear to die
While endless tides trek through time.
My frozen chest melts and sighs
and restive heart ebbs and flows in rhyme.

Seagulls climb and dive to party on the sands.
Beyond the aims of men, my view expands.
Then from afar, Un bel di serenades
Beloved Earth as it flies through space
While bombs descend on foreign lands.

Sunset by the Sea

No words can woo a restful peace
As does sunset by the sea.
The sun enlightens an iridescent path along the water
That stems from shore to sky.

Like the water to its sides,
Shadows soon invade the golden path and slowly snuff its glitter
Until it disappears into waters that throb of everlasting life,
Devouring the setting sun that melts into milky blue.

But never truly does it disappear if surely it was there,
Even if by reflection only.
The glowing path was bright and very real,
But its source has vanished into the waters whence it came.
The sea gave birth to the sun,
The sun gave life to the sea, and thus the path –
Both mother and child die together.

A path of illusion? A path defined by blinding light.
So beautiful, so seductive, so bright and bold,
So proud and seemingly secure enough to walk upon.

What if all of time were compressed within that hour of sunset
When the path took shape until it faded among the waters?
Then we might never see the sun leave the sky,
Nor it die, enveloped by the sea.

And perhaps if we lived much longer and more slowly,
Or were tall enough to glimpse beyond the corners of the sea
To watch the sun live on and not daily disappear,
Then some paths that burn so brightly
And goals that glow distinctly,
Would vanish when seen in total view,
And we would laugh and rest as we may do,
When we sip the peace of sunset by the sea.

The Cost of Love Lost

Spellbound from the start,
Building fire with desire,
Chemistry ignites our heart,
Then losing it when they’re the one,
Worrying naught for what may come.

Hoping their intent is true,
Ignoring fact and intuition,
We overlook what they lack
And disregard the things we knew
To fabricate our vision.

Romantic hope sweeps us away
While seeking love to keep,
Our morals and our minds may stray.
The price of passion can be steep.

Waning love foments accusations,
Unfilled expectations, questions, and deceit,
For commitments overpromised,
And endearments less than honest.

Distrust and shock cause bitter breakups,
Wasted grief, and prolonged hurt,
Or, apologies and shaky make-ups
That never quite erase the dirt.

Feelings lurk like hungry ghosts:
Jealousy and spite at our ex’s posts,
Shame for foolishness on our part,
Anger we were duped or dropped,
Guilt for rashness with our heart.

Despite blameless self-deception,
If we recoil when love is lost
And chide ourselves for what it cost
With judgments taught in our past,
This strategy of self-protection
Thwarts finding partners who may last.

Although thinking we’ve moved on,
Resentment savored for too long
Hides the trauma unforgiven
That keeps us safe but still in prison.

When victim memories won’t let go
And we don’t comfort our distress,
Life and past remain in limbo…
But when self-compassion mends our pain,
Our heart is freed to love again.

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