November 25, 2021
Thanksgiving used to be a wonderful day in my life. My maternal grandmother prepared a meal, with some assistance from my mother and my Aunt Jane. My grandmother and my aunt are gone now, long gone, and my mother is lost in whatever world she has found for herself. Pray they find a cure for Alzheimer's, if not for her then for your own loved ones.
Thanksgiving leaves me not very thankful this year. I've lost more than loved ones in this year. I've lost direction and drive. My talent is not diminished, but it needs to redirected.
Back in 2017, I penned what is for me a rare poem. Sometimes I surprise myself, and I did that day. What a difference four years have made.
As this year winds down, I'd like to share the poem again. I wonder now if back then I saw this time coming. My path has led home, strange as "home" is these days.
Standing Guard
Long ago I tread a path
A misty woodland way
I had no company along the trek
So the trees could have their say
They spoke to me in silence
With movement seen not heard
And I replied in quiet kind
Walking without a word
The day ahead held demands
Devoid of mist and air
I could not whine or complain
Or do what trees don't dare
Beneath the ground unseen by all
Their roots do intertwine
Reminding me the path ahead
Leads home to all that's mine
KC/Rayne
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