Time spirals upward
level after level
an ascension of ability.

Perhaps I smolder with inadequacy.
Lost angel in the female order
evading the ultimate aim
of a woman.

Some secrets are
a stained glass pane
a holy station of benevolence.

I was tempered
in the seething heart of knowledge
my soul knows past lifetimes

when I plunged chubby feet
into fur-lined boots
lit a fire to cook
watched smoke
circle upwards into night
heard our herd of reindeer
stamp and snort in the snow

prayed for strength
as winter prowled outside our goahti.

Finding myself poorly suited
for motherhood
I opted out this time around.

I Try Playing My Music, Extra Loud, To Drown out the thoughts as they start to crowd

Hustle and Bustle, Like some concert up front, My very own Mosh pit, Sense I now hunt

Maybe I could push them, through some form of sieve, Fine powder of answers, solutions to give,

But for now they are still Jumble, A Table top Sale, Some Full of Hope, Some Leave me Pale

Back in the quiet, Contemplate, Think, it’s no wonder so many, end up on drink

So I write to express myself, Poems to Share, It keeps me from sinking, into Despair!