The Sisters Play

The sisters play.
Lives unlived and unknown
But real to their imaginations.

We are at sea
Where mermaids race and swim
Greeted by friendly sea creatures.
Oh, what adventures they had!

Of course, there’s conflict.
Problems present themselves.
Solutions and ideas form.

The sisters play on.
The imagination lives
In each one of us.

It is known yet intangible.
The stories and ideas
Weave in and out.

Like the waves in the sea.
We marvel at their strength,
Shape and fierce force.

The sisters play.

We are goddesses of the sea.
We can shape that creative force
And wield the plot and characters.

A story unfolding,
Real and imagined.

A Story

A single candle illuminates the window.
The darkened pane dazzles in the light.
What is behind the darkness?

Ever mysterious and profound.
I imagine what lies out of sight.
Whose lives dream and weep
Behind the darkened window?

The truth does not matter.

I am inspired for having dreamed a little.
The imagined lives outside myself
have lit an internal spark.

An inspiration of what it means
To live.
And I reflect on my own full life.


The Imagination

The Imagination knows no limits.
Sometimes it has a mind of its own.
It takes me to unseen places
and brings to life fantasies
that have never seen the light of day.

The Imagination is soft and wild.
It comes from a place deep inside
and longs to be expressed.
It is unconcerned about money, chores,
Earning a living or maintaining a home.

It is desire even unknown to me
Until it leaps out onto the page.
My hands moving swiftly
Making marks on the pristine paper.

It is in my child’s mind
As she creates stories, conflict, and magic
Recreating a story or a movie
to her understanding.

The Imagination is not looking to adhere
to standards of what is good or acceptable.
There is no grade-point average to attain.

The Imagination thrives on space to express 
and room to grow.
To explore 
its edges unending
and terrain always an adventure
awaiting to be expressed.

Childhood Object

My pink bike with the banana seat was my most treasured Christmas present. I couldn’t wait to take it for a spin with the training wheels. We had a long driveway perfectly safe for learning balance and feet coordination. Never veering too close to the busy street. My mom‘s attention to help me learn was unwavering.

Soon the training wheels were a deterrent. I couldn’t go as fast as my strong capable legs wanted to go. My older brother’s mongoose bike mocked my wicker basket with the burgundy flower while I took my doll for a slow ride.

The training wheels were removed. Fear: Can I do it? It was no longer up to my mom to teach me. I was on my own for the first time. And it seemed to come to me so easily, so natural like riding a two wheeler was a birthright. So I rode grooves into the driveway.

Oh, the places I’d go if only in my imagination. Especially during those long summers when we had nowhere to go. I went on adventures to places in my dreams like Rocky Point or Disney. Places I longed to go. My imagination held no bounds or borders. I could come and go as I pleased.

Here there was no map only the compass of my mind and heart. We were free. A first taste of independence and proof that I was more than capable to learn, grow and expand across the wild imagination of my mind.