A statement

Too strange

To be a lie

Yes, a tree fell

On my husband

And my mother

Whom he protected with his body

And my daughter

Who had the instinct to bolt

Whilst I marveled at the universe

Contained in a speck of dust

Congregating with other specks of dust

My broom was merrily whipping up at home

The police insisted they waited for the ambulance

Paramedics proclaimed them fine

And lucky

Huh …

Lucky seems comical

Too comical almost

But apt perhaps

To describe how any of us

Continues to draw the next breath

Now is all we really have

Yet we lived every moment

As if the next moment is an entitlement


  • Roslina

    Curating beauty in the cadence of the human voice

    Who am I? I wish I knew too. Perhaps here in the virtual space of our interconnectedness will I return unto myself, in ways beyond imagination. Until such time, I am ... a seeker of beauty, curious about presence; a convener of circles, of poetic sensibilities; an alchemist of soul surrendering to the mystery of the human voice; a guardian of hope, camping out at the frontiers of consciousness.