Eight Quarter

Recently I have watched family, friends and myself slip uncontrollably into the quicksand of woes.  I see the worry etched on their sun streaked faces.  I view the frustration in the slight downturn of their smile.  I notice the pain in their uneven steps.  I can feel fear in their hugs.  I know all too well the struggle with the poor economy, personal finances and the loss of employment.  The rockslide shakes me to my soul.

I cope with all this negativity and chaos with words.  Words scribbled on a scrap of paper, a used napkin, the backside of an envelope and written with care in one of my journals and now the words appear as if by magic on my word documents.  Writing consoles me and moves me along on my life’s journey.  It cleanses my emotions to a certain degree. 

Many of us are coping with emotional, financial and physical hurt that clearly incapacitates our lives.  I stand back and watch sometimes in horror as the world seems to crack and break apart.  Some fall into that deep dark crevice and climb back to safety and others never return to stable ground.  I feel the helplessness.  So my thoughts tumble out as words that help me in a world that at times is harsh and unforgiving.   The waterfall begins.

The decadent dreams deflated are merely distant memories fading with last night’s sunset.   Desperation drips like the dreaded Kudzu vine that is devoid of any empathy or compassion for nature.  Denial is the deadly defense that decapitates the soul that once supported the dream.  Desires of dancing in the darkness have been destroyed by the death grip of reality.  Descending slowly and deliberately into that deep dark abyss of destruction all desire drops like donuts into hot bubbling oil.  As the dog days of summer wind down to the end deceit displaying a campaign of destitute delirium they die.  Destiny dangling deliberately out of reach daring to disperse the demise of dreams.