Reflections – Page 2 – Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog

Mystic

Life’s continuum of regrets,I cling to such as thee,Seems I can never forego, forget,Nor have fates forgiven me. I tend to forget, to forget to lay,A carapace over the bee,To prevent the sting upon my soul,And deny its eidetic glee. Bury my sin in deepened pits,Under an evening elegy,Caste it from this mind of mine,IntoContinue reading “Mystic”

Hope Fragile

I lay in a bed of deep blue sky,The cool light of hopefloats in clouds – distant,like a painting on the wall of my life.I yearn to touch eachbrush stroke but dare notfor fear the hope withinwill disappear.

Quiet Ending

The melodic, nighttime chimes of myheart announce the arrival of the quiet.The quiet has its own sound – a whisperof silence, like the final, dying rippleof what once was a mighty ocean comber,sucked into the cream colors of a sandy beach.Who was this wave? How fardid its white tips travel? How raucousits fathoms of saltwater?Continue reading “Quiet Ending”

Roads Not Taken

I thought about joining the Navy instead ofgetting married. I might have been a pilot,or a battleship commander – and diedat the bottom of the sea. I could haveplayed on the college baseball team,become an All-American or been that guy – the final cut. I considered retiring in the Sonoran Desert,joining the fat Saguaro cactusContinue reading “Roads Not Taken”

The Bus Ride to Indifference

I sit on the sunny side,no shade to hide the flashlight glarein my eyes. I turn away from theintruding fireball and see a prettylady next to me, dark as night. Shesits quietly, hands folded, rubbingher arthritic fingers.I can sympathize. She’s from Jamaica, Queens; aneighborhood in New York City.We both mumble somethingunintelligible as we pass aContinue reading “The Bus Ride to Indifference”

The Artist of Time

Felt tipped pens hiss,pencils crackle, spraying blackash in circles like the darknessof expired hours. A palette of paints, oils ofblue, yellow, and brown;a thin brush drops slowly downthe canvas like hourglass sand. A thoughtful lean, a cat-likesmile, a feline stretchof tired satisfaction; the passingpurr of a breeze gone by. Remnants of work, now idle;pens, pencils,Continue reading “The Artist of Time”

The 9/12 Stairwell

A light shines upon me,Though all seems clearly lost,Hands lift from ‘neath my arms,Concrete and steel are tossed. My mask gently removed,Tender hands wipe my cheeks,Another holds me close,A nimbus of care oblique. My heart beats once more,Of my soul, not of my chest,Forgiving love surrounds me,Cool winds of sweetness. I feel His royal presence,FromContinue reading “The 9/12 Stairwell”

The 9/11 Stairwell

My words become a chant,“Follow in single line,We’ll all get out together,One step at a time.” Choking smoke thickens,The walls close in,A darkness squeezes the light,No sun to shine again. We stop to the rumbling,From above comes falling clutter,Sounds reach ever closer,Our stairs groan a shudder. One falls, then another,As I yell to go faster,IContinue reading “The 9/11 Stairwell”

Walking Girl

My tapping brings attention,To someone close behind,A soulful love she senses,A memory in her mind. It’s me my dear a-watching,A kiss I send to you,A caress from my spirit,Like fairies and angels do. My presence to be unknown,A face she cannot see,A mist of feeling follows her,Unbound, forever free. Like a spinning neon dime,A signContinue reading “Walking Girl”

The Final Winter

I’ve come upon empty benches,A scattering of voices and dreams,Once filled with people in love,Now empty; burned black,Sitting sorely in pools of sooty water. Winter’s ice burned the benches,Scorching the plantings’ blooms,Each struggling for a spurt of growth,Colorful roses of red and yellow,Begging for a sliver of sun. I pray for one more day,A green-stemmedContinue reading “The Final Winter”