Gaia Community: Catherine's Blog

Shadowlands and Hinter Thoughts

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 13:59:57 GMT

shadowlands
and hinter thoughts
poetry, in chilly moss-touched slumber
like long wet grass
unmowable on cold June morns

air and time they say
prods me towards another day
time too has its bluster, wind-like rustle
breeze-swept ways that move more than dew drops
and insect notions

what multitudes we live among

delving wildly towards certitudes
that drift ghost-like
through the margins of those walls
we built to contain
our most vision-cherished thoughts

I have long since left my comfy chair
my tea-brewed breath
my well combed hair

today I'll forgive the sky for such pause
all manner of openness
gathers what is not seen

'tis but to wait
it will

yes
it will in time
precipitate

©C.L.B. Callender 2009

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, shadowland, thoughts, life, wind, time, comfort, certainty

To Find

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 19:23:10 GMT

life
light or heavy?
live it?
let it?
leave it alone?

we clothe ourselves
in life
don the garb laid out before us
embellish the shell
dense and weighty
feel with blind hands
the gravity
on the inside
think we know the skin
(ephemeral)
dance and spin
when we dare
(ah but that's not fair)

for the truth in life
is like a circus parade
a spinning cacophony
pleasantly held
on the head of a pin
half imagined
(or more
than half)

for it, the heavy cloak
shoulders engaged
and a train to catch
(catch and catch)
metal fierce
those tracks, those wheels

and there is beauty
(there is)
call it the flow of destiny
or
call to it through the wind in winter
or
call where it laps the soul,
like the tones of bells move the hair on your neck
marking milestones with moving air

we live, to find
what we have lost

© 2009 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem poet poetry find lost question life

Just Under the Surface

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 07:07:03 GMT

tones
the wire metal of sleepless things
bejewelled and polished
paper bits
and settled dust
holding holding
riddles, rhymes
remembering

standing
stocking feet
just one step, beyond

there is no time
there is no space
no time and space
is there a place, no time and space

a hearty laugh
science in a velvet robe
glass in hand
sky inked black, milkywayed
with it, a tingling hunger
a tingling hunger
on a night near winter

and the ground frosts
freezes
wild heaves
grass, fresh sculpted
has yet to be trampled

tempo tempo
to travel tempestuous breaths
the very air
bids sound to carry
to come
to fly
long

long long longing
move move
moving

jocular life moves with fluid curves
blood and tears
roll inside
or out
the electric edge
demarks what is vascular
transcends
the sweet, vessel comforts

the glimpse is long
the counterbalance of forceful fury

and fades with night
or day
or sleep
or springtime

sinks like a sigh
just under the surface

to soften the skin
of silence

© 2008 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, tone, silence, mystery, life, complexity, time, space

Some Photography Fun

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Mon, 27 Oct 2008 02:27:04 GMT

Here are some Collages I made on Picnik.com

Was a lot of fun, and I thought I would share them here.
(I have a photo blog on Flickr.)

Tags: photography season collage

The Second Rise on Smith Street

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:48:33 GMT

moister air
longer views
a gap

a game

mirrors
with movement
the glint
once there
to sit, to stare

and life
a trick
a trick of time, versed in vision

a yawn
long drawn
extra air
in memories, they scamper
unmodulated
mostly mumbled

monosyllabic

thus the mountain goat
(the mountain goat?)
of treks and trails
rocks and rigors
reels, ever regally
a symphony, silent sidesteps
quickly given
then gone

and I am atop
the second rise
on Smith Street

the second one
(on the way down)

if I were to draw
maps and lines
arrows
tracing the edges

a palm pressed key
small and metal
warm from touching
hand-hidden
smile burnished

long cold months
sleeping and waking
closed eyes peeking
at Smith street
(Almost missed)

over Smith street
(With the right blinker on)

on Smith street
I stopped
I turned

the other way

© 2008 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, path, street, key, choice, life, turn

Dirt Path in Summer

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 20:46:44 GMT

the dirt path in summer
sips the insect silence
reclines, resides
reflects, delves deeper
and though
the soil is tough
no blade of grass can cut
it sighs softly, to my tiptoed dance

and the foghorn at dawn
long toned, low mournful
an OM without the bend
the curves
the turn

with dice in hand
I journey
(I journey)
and choose
to think I'm choosing
for I turn my head now
my legs take direction
sometimes fast
sometimes slow
in little attentions
plays of tension
in make-pretend
there is no end
to what we think we can control

white clouds crenelate
gather wide, blow, commingle
for a moment, I am the sky
I am the sky
both dressed and naked
the sun speaks of hunger
the air has hue
before the storm comes
there is but little to do
little to do
but hold the wonder
of a ball in flight
trajectory, gravity, spin
lose their seriousness
in the moment
the moment

for the moment
time is but a question
how is not an answer
now is round and simple
round and simple
now is round and simple

(and where is goes)
(is where it goes)

©2008 C. L. B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, path, dirt, wonder, moment, question, journey, sky, sun

The Sea that Crests

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Fri, 16 May 2008 14:57:49 GMT

we owe a debt
to the sea that crests
how in liquid calm it soothes
we rest
but there is nothing false in fear
or fury
forceful is the fight
and freedom
yes, freedom
too
is fraught
full fraught
with rasping edges

and the song
the singing
it gives, it gasps
unsettled
unsettled

unsettled is the passion
of mounting waves
in the bite of bitter air
the questions come
they come
they come and stay
and there
how do shutters know
what power
what depth

they wield when open
they wield when closed

the sea that crests
holds us all
holds us all

©2008 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, sea, ocean, power, openness

Night with its Velvet Breath

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 05:24:30 GMT

ah the night with it’s velvet breath
fragrant, empty-scented
whisper-combed
half hinting
wind wishing
a lucid
quiet
tempered sweetness

and in the open
the open
I will stand
will admire this night
this moment
curved and flexing
night laid bare, unencumbered
nestle my brow
in its wide, dark shoulders

the harp
time’s strings moving
chords hovering
finger tips, tender
to the touch
of the touch
lids, lips, lashes
eyelashes raking the heavens
and sleepless
strums
sleepless strums
sleepless strums
and I wrap myself
in its fabric
in its strings

for its song
long ago written
is a song
with a price
(yes)
a song with no purpose
(true)
but it has come now
comes now

and slowly
it bears its gifts

©2008 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, song, night, sleep, sleepless, meaning, life, purpose, uncertianty

I've a Winter Soul

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 18:41:08 GMT

I’ve a winter soul
winter soul
with winter skin, paper pale
(not paper thin)

and days
and days
where color hides
through icy wind
straight, clear

and dry

it takes its time
to shift
to sort
to move the layers
that resist
half stiff

half stiff, half empty
half forgotten

half of half
of half of half

halving the silence
each time I laugh

yea, briskness
you trumpeter of unknown causes
sweet wrapped morsel
singing
to my tingling hands
painter
of both cheeks and noses
joker, lover
hidden drummer
willing waiter
with one cocked brow

winter beats along
with winter flavor
where winter only wants
to want
and asks each day
anew
anew now
what want you?
what want you?

and only everything will suffice

and only nothing seems the price
of time and place and rules and labor

I will not concur
though I might
were it summer

I cannot concur
concurrence lays

too deeply
buried

in winter
in winter
in winter, one can only
can only
will only

accept

©2008 C. L. B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, winter, soul, want, wait, concur, accept, brisk, life

What Must Be Said

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 01:42:32 GMT

what we touch
what touches us
in temperature
of temperament
the entails of nature
the shape, fed on planes and spheres
the shiver of texture
the resistance requisite for roughness
the slide of sweetness in smoothness
the laughter of liquid, winking, blinking
as all tales told in that glint
swift is the story
light leads in us
leads us to draw, define
but the truth of the canvas
relies on wind (or on paint)
or on stitching, were it a sack
for we live in our metaphors
they beg us
to know them
dare us
to show them
exactly where does allusion slip into illusion
and intuition will have to do
when inexpression leaves the impression
that what must be said
is simply
silence

©2007 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, silence, inexpressible, metaphor, knowing, allusion, illusion

Across My Coffee

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sun, 16 Dec 2007 16:41:21 GMT

as I breathe across my coffee
on no ordinary winter’s day
I decipher games that blizzards play
revealed in noise, whipped by contrast
uneven tempos, wilder still
gusting rattles, dull inhospitable bites
and I am entreated, take, feel, a deeper silence
more profound (yet more, but why?)
embrace the limitations
on time and space held in this winter’s roar
and so, and so
yes and so again
to the window’s edge I draw my lines

the tranquil wisp of comfort’s air
crests away of my milk white cup
fairness is food for an even soul
let this fact not find one tear of rage

truth and love, and simplicity
blooms and waits in the eddies

yes, it waits there now
it waits there still
and so I say
“let it”

©2007 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, storm, blizzard, winter, wisdom, silence, trials, life, contrast

An Ocean

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 16:42:49 GMT

we, each one, are an ocean
to stand in timid wonder on my own shore
filled, full, folding under the horizon
the depth, the distance grovel into greedy mullings
that feel as a spot of smallness
almost nothing against this immensity
but these waters are clearly finite
and with my curled lips' confidence
I whisper “who said they understand infinity”?
yet it can be encompassed
with two dipped, cupped hands
twitching on a winter’s day

ever notice fear follows all riddles?
tip-toe creeping, crouching low
full of meekness fed on apologies
nodding and feigning
from the wake of what we don’t know?

know it not
know it not
and know it now
‘til now be known

©2007 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, ocean, knowing, unknowing, finite, infinity, fatigue

Tagged - Last Seven Things

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 15:57:15 GMT

Seven more... digging at the bottom of the barrel here!
This batch if from Stacy’s tag

1.
I’m addicted to my daughter’s mispronunciations, and encourage them by adopting their word (chuckle, probably shouldn't but can't resist!)

So in our house Marshmallows are “Smarshmellows”, Apple Cider is “Apple Spider” and granola bars are called “granula bars”.
I let “glubs” for gloves go though.

Oh and the strangest one would have to be “Davy Towel” which is what they say when they get water in their eyes when bathing and want a towel. I think Marina was trying to say “Baby Towel” (she was about a year old) but it came out as “Davy” and has stayed that way.

(snicker.... these were supposed to be random and bizzarre right?)

2.
I love to boogie board. I borrowed my friend’s board a few years back during a playdate at the beach, and was immediately addicted! We’ve got very cold water here, and I usually board until I can’t feel my feet anymore. (it is that much fun!... really.... it is:-)

3.
I wore braces for 5 years. For those who have never worn braces, that is a long time. I had worn them 2 and a half years, and had them off, was given the “your all done” sign.

And within 6 months, the gap between my front teeth had returned (insert fanfare there!)

So back on they went. To this day, whenever someone compliments me on my smile, the first thing I think is, well I certainly paid a price for them!!!

4.
um... (running out of ideas here....)
Purple is my favorite color (as well as it’s compliment, yellow).... and for obvious reasons, right? :-) (you know, fruits, flowers.... the color of fresh snow at dusk!!)
(or maybe it is because I look less pasty in purple... and vanity is vanity!)

5.
The biggest city I’ve lived in is São Paulo Brazil... amazingly huge city! I remember flying into São Paulo once and it just went on in all directions!
The smallest town I have lived in is Columbia Falls Maine which I think had about 250 people at the time.... School only had 4 rooms, and at night, the stars were so incredible!

6.
My friend Cree makes the most incredible Christmas toffee. (Hmmm, guess I’m hungry, and it is snowing, so I am thinking about Christmas)

7.
And last, and possibly least, I had a strange dream last night that I was building houses using acorn squash. (and let me tell you, the structural drawings were mighty detailed!:-)

Ok, think it is time for me to leave the rest of the random and strange in my life stay secret, and perhaps write a poem or two for this blog:-)

THE RULES:

1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.

2. Post these rules on your blog.

3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.

4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

The Seven People I am tagging:

1. Allison

2. Jonathan

3. Forrest

4. Maitri

5. Kevin

6. Scott

7. Alimo

Tags: tagged, random, silly things, facts, about me, trivia

Tagged - Seven More Random Things

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Thu, 06 Dec 2007 15:46:09 GMT

Ok, I was tagged 3 times (while I was away!) So I thought I would put up 7 things for each time I was tagged:-)
(21 random things... yea, I can come up with 21 I think!)

So these are in responce to Lucente.
(I'm not going to tag more than the original 7 I tagged though.)

Here goes batch number 2:

1.
The first profession I remember “aspiring to” (and now that I have children, I see that this notion of “what I want to be when I grow up” shifts and changes daily) was a mad scientist.

No, not a scientist.... I wanted to be a MAD scientist. You know, thick glasses, bubbling beakers... incredible “experiments” that can fly, or turn people invisible, or laser blast things. I am not sure where I got the idea... a comic book?... cartoon on TV?

And for those of you who grew up with Gilligan’s Island, yea, I wanted to be like the Professor. I didn’t want to look like him, but I wanted to be smart like him.... to be able to make batteries from chemicals and coconut shells... machines using pulleys and such:-)
(I can do the MAD scientist laugh fairly well.... and you know.... “the world is MINE! MINE I tell you!!! )

2.
I can trace a bunch of ancestors back to the Mayflower, and when my grandmother was alive, I was a junior member of the Mayflower Society:-)

This makes me chuckle actually. And one amusing thing about this is that it was through my father’s mother, and I always thought my father’s father was slightly jealous because he he couldn’t trace his ancestors to the Mayflower. This boat sailed almost 400 years ago, so you can imagine how incredibly meaningless being a descendant is, but still I think it rankled him somehow.

3.
I have big feet. I wear woman’s size 10 shoes.
(And will add, that where I am from, this is not uncommon, and shoe stores here carry size 11 too.)

But as no doubt the wolf in little red riding hood would say, “The better to run and jump with:-) And my father wears men’s size 13 (so he is to blame:-) Oh, and my 20 year old nephew wears 14!

4.
More in the vein of physical attributes, my nose bends to the right. I was slammed point blank in the face with a frisbee during a game of Ultimate when I was 18, and have been unsymmetrical since then. (Adds character right? :-)

5.
And one more for the physical facts, I have a birthmark in a place that never sees the light of day that quite unfortunately looks exactly like a hickey. (Can even point out where the teeth “were”!!)
As you can imagine, I’ve had to “explain” that one a few times!

6.
I think Dr. Seuss was a genius both linguistically and artistically, and have memorized a great deal of his stories through the years. “Fox in Socks” is currently the “read it again” fare at bedtime, and I take great pride (probably shouldn’t, but hey, we all have to put some feathers in our cap right?) that I never flub up... and what I wouldn’t give to have seen him chuckling to himself while writing about the Tweetle Beetles. (He had to have been constantly amusing himself, don’t you think? I bet he was constantly playing games with words in his head!)

7.
One of my grandmother’s died quite young and the other lived a very long life (was tempted to say died quite old:-) Gotta love idiomatic expressions!)

So I was thinking that if I lived as long as the first one, I only have 15 years left, and if I’m like the second, I have 55 years left! I know, I know! I should live in the moment, and not fear death, and not think of life as quantity but rather quality:-) But yea, I hope I’m more like the second.... and at this point not so much because I want to see what my lifetime brings, but extreme curiosity about what my girl’s lifetimes will be like!
If I check out in 15 years, I will miss some very interesting chapters, don’t you think!

(I'll put up the final 7 tomorrow)

THE RULES:

1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.

2. Post these rules on your blog.

3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.

4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

The Seven People I am tagging:

1. Allison

2. Jonathan

3. Forrest

4. Maitri

5. Kevin

6. Scott

7. Alimo

Tags: tagged, random, silly things, facts, about me, trivia

Tagged - Seven Random Things

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 17:03:28 GMT

Ok...
It was Nicola who tagged me. (And quite some time ago... I've been lax!!)

So here goes:

1.
I’m the youngest child of two youngest children, and this has also made me the youngest grandchild on both sides of my family. I have found that this makes family members put “even” as a preface for most of my major life events. (like, “oh, even Catherine is in college now”, “even Catherine has children”.)
The advantage of being the youngest... if you want to “be invisible” you can be. The disadvantage? If you DON'T want to “be invisible”... tough! :-)

2.
I love building fires. (and no, I’m not one of those crazy-eyed firebugs who stands by with an evil smile thinking “burn, burn! I want to see it burn!”) Well at least I hope I’m not!
But I was a girl scout, and have camped a lot, and if you give me enough time (and a lot of birch bark) I can get a roaring fire going even in the pouring rain.

3.
I am a “Super Taster”. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supertaster )
I found this out at the science museum a few years back when this guy was having people put paper soaked in some chemical on their tongues. (Phenylthiocarbamide: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phenylthiocarbamide )

Apparently about 75% of the population here in the US can’t taste a thing. Super-tasters taste it as bitter. It tasted so awful that I had to run to the water fountain to wash out my mouth, and the guy told me that that probably meant that I was a “super super taster” and could discern a lot more different levels of “flavor” than most. (hmmm... who knows.)

Supposedly this makes people pickier eaters, but I am actually the opposite. I love trying new things and there is hardly anything I “won’t eat”.

4.
I always choose toys for my children that I enjoy playing with too:-) Can’t have too many legos or building blocks... can you? (And thoese Quadrilla marble runs... fun!)

5.
I live just a few minutes from one of the most photographed lighthouses in the world. (Portland Head Light: http://www.portlandheadlight.com/ )

It is really quite something, though I admit I am required to take it for granted. (It is part of the Mainer’s code of honor: Never be too serious, and never put too much stake in the “beauty of Maine”. After all, I have to live here through March and April, and there is nothing fun about that.)

6.
I speak Portuguese... badly. (I’m working on it.) enough said:-)

7.
I’ve been tagged twice, so I might have to start lying on the next one. (but I give my most solemn honest word, all of the trivial facts above are dripping in truth!!)

THE RULES:

1. Link to the person’s blog who tagged you.

2. Post these rules on your blog.

3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.

4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog.

The Seven People I am tagging:

1. Allison

2. Jonathan

3. Forrest

4. Maitri

5. Kevin

6. Scott

7. Alimo

Tags: tagged, random, silly things, facts, about me, trivia

It is, It isn't

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sat, 10 Nov 2007 13:10:18 GMT

there was a dream
each breath, ah yes
the air had qualities (qualities)
inhaling brought me skyward
and I couldn’t decide
eyes open or eyes closed?

but the welling surged, like laughter posing a question
“what is Beauty?”
and it is
and it isn’t
and in the silence, the riddler grinned
smirking, sliding slowing, simply
to an honest smile

if everything really is sand
weather has much to teach us
and what of, fluttering pages
dampened scripts from the puppet parade
all such, scribbled dialogs, doggedly learned?

time’s quality is not a game of rations
to be divvied, small offerings to proud regularity
the safety gained in scheduled rhythm
(oh! but to be secure!)
can never change what it is
we really
fear

so, ply the moment for its colors
let all your circumstances reach your lips and tongue
and honestly
trust your lungs
(and the other one)
let them tell your time

they better know
the tick and measure
of your life

©2007 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, breath, paradox, lungs, air, qualities, time, trust, love

This Curvature

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Thu, 25 Oct 2007 00:33:13 GMT

my hand, my hands
palms and curving fingers
together they steady, pool the warmth
flatness has its vital ways
to journey, to soothe
to skip like a stone across the surface
skin as an ocean, with electric currents
and ever gliding,
never hiding the sweetness
of shallow, certain concaveness

this curvature
dips and holds
the tears (that come)
but never begs for too much
never knows too little
never wishes to conceal
and always shows that strength
whispers in the dance of nimble utility

gentleness
murmurs only openness

and reach
is mostly a suggestion

©2007 C. L. B. Callender

Tags: poem, poetry, poet, hands, hope, tears, fear, concave, curvature, utility, gentleness

Contradiction

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 13:49:13 GMT

contradiction
sung like an aria
takes the stage, takes my hand
demands attention, unavailable
and the little drama
tight throat, stomach lining
acid etched in runes and emblems
becomes
even littler

standing stock still
washed with the pomp and pallor
of meticulous seriousness
designing, designated
check the hem, shift the hips
backdrop myself in blood red velvet
now my false and phony
appears delicious and indelible
I’ll nod, mull with visual allure
truth told? a paper cut could bring me to my knees

and there
a different air creeps incredulously slowly
the door to the side
with dim damp blinking lights
a fragrant chill, casual and courtly
my trench coat unbuttoned, asking questions

are there voices from this trance state
to trace the contours of the bee dance
like soap bubbles over goose-bumps
trace the friction of my mind

for now?
I’ll turn in place, in place of stillness
I’ll simply smile when I don’t know
bow my eyes when my vision tires

and sleep a little
before the snow

©2007 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, aria, contradiction, reality, questions, image, fear, love, goosebumps

Small Whirlwinds

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Wed, 03 Oct 2007 09:49:13 GMT

small whirlwinds, microcosmic
fingers shaking in tempestarian daydreams
and the bob, the tilt
the undeniable sway, my head
ripe, heavy, hand cupped
lolls back, I let it fall
fleeing the horizon
that asks for only feet
my eyes go skyward
like nimble wet erasers
mopping the chalkboard
a settling, yet temporary
clean

ah! we see the blue sky as open
unblemished, a place of clarity
but atmosphere is everything
the steady hue belies
the complex challenge
the thickness, migrations
velocities
this blanket only teases that it is nothingness
on the rare day, after the rare storm
when a rare question
‘tis answered, with a rare
now

and this gaseous dome
spreads its blueness above
plays its game of find the cloud
but I am not fooled
for I know love only “is”
and can never be “isn’t”

regardless of what floats by
and which direction it goes

©2007 C.L.B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, whirlwind, weather, upset, uncertainty, clarity, nothingness, everythingness, love

Symmetry, let go your Arrogance (Rewritten)

http://metaphoric.gaia.com — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 14:55:54 GMT

A friend said I didn't give this poem enough fire on my first go (cheeky... but quite true:-)
And being that there is a delicious irony due to the subject of this poem...
I have given this poem another tumble

Symmetry
let go your arrogance
oh the pride, the hat tips and accolates
swoons over perfect circles
the elegance of mathematical resonance
nods to mirrored beauty, the senses crafted
dressed in crispness
yes I will give my big-toothed smile
clap with graceful airs
embedded with all the “oh-so-due-to-you”ness

but
there is only life when something sways

and imbalance
ah! imbalance takes me
imbalance temps me
punishes me
shows me the depth
viscous and uncertain
that stirs with a greater beauty
crackling with questions
daring me to be swallowed whole
challenging me to find the static core
deep in the mystery
of movement

imbalance is, and is again

the force that inks my poet’s pen
the riddle that wets desires’ lips
the paradox my spirit drinks

I will wrestle
gather, sort and count
I want to rest in that place
‘tween overwhelmed and sated through

Imbalance, know this
(for it is true)

Beauty, Peace, and Love
mean nothing without you

©2007 C. L. B. Callender

Tags: poem, poet, poetry, balance, imbalance, symmetry, struggle, life, beauty, peace, love