Wishbone

 

 

storm

Perhaps the heavens opened in storm to remind her of wave

A needed wash of the tides that will recede once more

Discomfort of the cold and wet to feel her warmth

In tired limb and lacking spirit a thought that maybe humanity can be found

Simplicity of connection and trust of those who stand in show

Words of selfish silence seemingly echo in slow

Looking in the mirror she sees us all

Floundering at dusk and rising in hope

Hold on to that wishbone friend, we might have nothing more

Today

She allows the rain and darkness to consume her in gentle whole

With a glimmer of faith

That after it is all done

She will feel herself and walk in stride once more

~Alisa Hutton

 

 

 

Wonderland

aw

I I sometimes wonder if I read Alice in Wonderland too many times as a child. Perhaps too many rainy days spent outside as a 6 year old? In the quiet looking at the water rushing down the street creating great stories of wild, river adventures in my mind. While all the other kids were playing kick the can in the August heat there I was laying on my back in the grass forming animal shapes in the clouds. Watching neighborhood kids build tree forts while I sat on the cement contently drawing my pictures on scrap pieces of paper with my broken crayons.

Always observing, quietly watching. Not understanding it all but unbendingly curious. When life became noisy, felt unfair or hard I would make my own wonderland. Diving in to my vivid imagination full of color and magic. With a delayed blink I could transport myself to a wonderful place where the flowers grew better, the grass softer and greener, and the sky always bright blue with fluffy white clouds. Rainbows around every corner. Everyone smiled and was full of love in my wonderland. Hearts were so big and full you just had to stop and say hello to them.

With a delayed blink I can still transport myself there. I wonder, was it protective nature or early wisdom. Do we have imagination to make the world feel a little less lonely and harsh? Or maybe we have imagination because we are the people who are supposed to create a more magical world? Maybe we see it so others can believe a better world exist for them too?

Either way, I like my wonderland.

~Alisa Hutton