Places in Between

14

Transcript of Places in Between

Places In Between

by

Susan Schoeffield

Table of Contents

The Destination

Hiding Courage

Return To Black Rock Springs

Flying High And Falling Fast

The Place In Between

A Mid-Autumn Night’s Dream

Always Is Forever

Two Of A Kind

Should I Be In This Place?

Elemental Exposure

Recycled

THE DESTINATION

Drifting

on a snowflake

gracefully spinning downward unprepared for the finale

melting into nothing

Sailing

on a seashell

tossed in self-absorbing waves clinging to notions preconceived

swallowing misplaced pride

Resting

in your comfort

the purpose of my journey to territories unexplored

revealed in perfect love

© Susan Schoeffield

HIDING COURAGE

Hiding in the safety

of limited boundaries

enables fear of the unknown to leave roads unexplored.

Courage cannot be found

behind closed doors or drawn blinds.

To disable apprehension, it must first be engaged.

© Susan Schoeffield

RETURN TO BLACK ROCK SPRINGS

A trail I’ve walked before

seems different in this light.

The passage of time dismantles dubious memories.

A wall, behind which stood

a hotel spa for town folk,

has no reminders save decay of ruined majesty.

Blinded eyes discover

all which nature has reclaimed

is given back a hundred-fold in images unseen.

Footsteps recall laughter,

silence supplies the music.

Contemplation heals the ailments of all who venture here.

© Susan Schoeffield

FLYING HIGH AND FALLING FAST

For me, camping is the

best way I know to unwind,

to prepare for what comes next and be ready for it.

This trip would not fail me.

A night of a thousand stars.

A campfire’s flames brushed heaven and heaven touched my heart.

Back home, a ringing phone

greeted me on my return.

Daddy suffered a massive stroke and would not recover.

Two weeks later, I thought

there were no more tears to cry.

When I felt the worst was over, my mother passed away.

© Susan Schoeffield

THE PLACE IN BETWEEN

Half-way ‘tween there and here,

one heart’s muffled orchestra

echoed in an empty chamber a song no one could hear.

Half-way ‘tween then and now,

one heart sang a capella

to melodies not yet written, a song it would not share.

Half-way ‘tween you and me,

two hearts created music,

a chorus blending together, a song only love sings.

© Susan Schoeffield

A MID-AUTUMN NIGHT’S DREAM

Travel

destinations to warm, tropical places.

Palm trees and white, sandy beaches

in seductive locales.

Bathing

suits and flip-flops, umbrella drinks, fresh seafood.

Temptations too strong to resist

on cold November days.

Exchange

snow plows and scarves for jet skis and scuba gear,

woolen gloves for suntan lotion.

The islands are calling.

© Susan Schoeffield

ALWAYS IS FOREVER

Always is a long time

to hold on to resentment

for real or imagined anguish brought about by others.

Always is all you have

when you can’t take back the words

you have spoken from the anger controlling who you are.

Always is forever

when a wrong can’t be righted

because death chose to intervene and anger becomes guilt.

© Susan Schoeffield

TWO OF A KIND

This house, once filled with love,

crumbles on a foundation

of crippling indifference, empty and forgotten.

This heart, once filled with hope,

bleeds from the wounds inflicted

through too many years of neglect, abandoned and unloved.

Both this house and this heart

remember days of promise

before they were left to decay alone and forsaken.

© Susan Schoeffield

SHOULD I BE IN THIS PLACE?

Should I quietly hide

in the clouds to gaze upon

the stars dancing in moonlit skies to songs only they know?

Should I try to capture

the soft and graceful steps of

this waltz in evening’s ballroom, my words will sound hollow.

I should, instead, enjoy

the scene in silent awe as

those involved in this astral dance ignore my intrusion.

© Susan Schoeffield

ELEMENTAL EXPOSURE

Raindrops lightly cascade

in soft, shimmering splashes

off the shoulders of a mountain to shallow pools below.

As clouds obscure the sun,

temperatures quickly drop,

the wet shoulders of a mountain wearing an icy shawl.

© Susan Schoeffield

RECYCLED

Time is disappearing.

Pages on the calendar

fly into the recycle bin faster than I can blink.

Sixty is closer now.

I’m not certain I’m prepared

to meet it with a smiling face when it knocks on my door.

And yet, in it will come.

What’s a few more pains and aches?

I’ve known plenty in my fifties and I’m friends with Aleve.

Time is disappearing.

While grateful for yesterdays,

I look forward to tomorrows before I’m recycled.

© Susan Schoeffield