Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Strange Stew

The sirens herald a nearby tempest
but then, a tempest is always near
I check the threat
and cook my soup
breaking the eggs as the storm blows by
Hail pounds as I curl around my soup bowl
Savoring each gingery bite
And still the sirens shriek, reminding me a tempest is always near
But today's was not mine and not for me
Blessings to you all who felt the wrath
Blessings to me who ate soup instead
Blessings to those who never knew a tempest was near
Blessings to those who never forget

2 comments:

human being said...

Blessings to you who remind us of this fact...

This poem is fabulous... how beautifully it tells us we can enjoys life inspite of all its hardships and sorrows... and be grateful...
Debra... you've got a great soul..
Namaste!

studio lolo said...

I guess we're all, at any given time, just one step away from a storm. Beautifully said.