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.


The trees have
Their own story to tell.
Their roots run deep,
Slow and powerful
Beyond what my eyes can perceive.

To their wisdom.
The ever silent witness
Present to the environment,
The changing seasons,
The years come and gone,
Steady and silent.

Touch the tree bark.
Its rough outer edge.
Can I be a witness
Without that hard exterior?
Can I be vulnerable,
Exposed to all the elements
And be just as slow and powerful?

Not hardened to the lessons
But provide a shelter, 
To nest and give respite
To the quiet integration;
To take nourishment,
To be held and to hold
All who pass and take shelter?

What emerges from the wisdom?
What tales do I want to share?

The trees have their own story to tell.
If I get still and quiet,
I can hear their wisdom.