Dripping with Curiosity

The door you can never enter,
intricate patterns carved into the door.
A child should be seen and not heard,
so you dared never enter the wooden door.

Older, you arrive at the house from long ago;
no longer a child, yet you have the heart of a child.

No longer afraid, you are dripping with curiosity.
To hell with it, you whisper,
then turn the handle and walk into the room.

Your Grandmother sits at her desk,
within a room of dreams and magic,
‘I wondered when you would join me.’

You smile and take the stars within your hands;
now you are ready for your mother’s secrets.

‘You have always been a witch, and now it is time to become one. Welcome to the heart of our coven, my beautiful Granddaughter.
I wish your mother could see this day, yet you know she still lingers.’

The Door

Shunned for being different, blamed for the famine and the storms.

An ostentiferous girl with violet eyes and dark hair, a beauty not fit for this world, was sent to live in the forest.

Walking to forget, to find kindness and a warm home, she stumbled upon a beautiful tree with a wooden door.

Feeling as if nothing mattered, she opened the door, stepped inside, and left the cold lonely forest behind.

Anchored: The Wolf and the Man

My mane is unbrushed and dirty,
there’s no snow for me to roll in.

My matted mane disgusts me;
once I was snow-covered, clean.

You saw me padding in the snow;
paw-prints, fur shaking, a look.

You caught me in your embrace,
free to be, yet anchored to you.

My soul remains free,
yet the cage you gave me is cosy.

I will stay if you take me back to
the snow, brush my mane clean,
and say the words you must say.

A Nomadic Heart

A spade and a bucket,
togs and no worries.

Once I was so young,
close or far from the sea.

A travelling heart,
genetically programmed.

Longing for the journey,
dreaming of many lands.

A chance to take a journey,
you tell me you won’t come.

Hoping you would come,
knowing it feels right to go.

Travelling near and far,
many roads and white lines.

A haiku a day for life,
a haiku a day to feel your love.

Sounds of different lands,
the sounds connect memory.

We saw snow-covered peaks,
salty warm seas of aquamarine.

Rainforests with bitey beasts,
and deserts so hot, breathless.

A call from you is a gift,
hoping to see you again soon.

A way of saying you’ve had enough
of my hodophile heart.

Longing for a love we don’t share,
a love I could not see.

I said love is an eternal thing,
you said, ‘come home and be with me’.

I said, ‘I know, love, yet we are worth
the misunderstandings.

I said, ‘only if you promise to come with
me on a journey’.

You said, ‘I don’t understand you, yet…’