Time

Do you, as I, daily perform an unending juggling act with the hours, grasping at fleeting minutes, feeling, by sundown, famished for time?

Who of us doesn’t wish to artfully turn the wretched clock into origami art that would sit silent and still on the wall and evidence beauty instead of lack?

Were it possible, I would wave my surely magic arms, and weave into the moments a stop gate, then take eternity to tell you, thank you, you were right, and I love you.

Lisa is Feeling Inspired….

Say something here and now to my writer’s eyes and heart. Tell me something mystical or bizarre about yourself. Share anything that will be cathartic for you, or will blow my mind. Enlighten me.

Post your own most favorite photo or other personal work of art.

Write a short story here, and I’ll collaborate and finish it with you.

Or, finish mine:

“Oh, how entirely good it is to be this aged age, having had all the conversations with all the different girls and women who I have been throughout these years! I know who I am, I know what I want, and I know what I am unwilling to do to achieve it. The beautiful mystery that remains is this: What magic-like means are out there in the world that I may take in order to manifest what I want?”

No need any more

Wishing, or worse

A third arm

Ambient days and nights every time

Perfect Puerto Rican coffee

Every time

Porch swings that don’t creak 

A squirrel who’ll stay long after lunchtime

And you 

Open eyes forbid this

But I still break for magic

Grown Up

I can only
Seek the magic
In you life
I know you’re there

Ten again
I’m taken back
To Santa Clause
And silly times 

You were there 
I can’t pretend
I didn’t see you
Caring at the tree