Unintentional Poetry

The Moon Follows you where ever you go.
Hold on to my purse.
Don’t let go of my Purse.
Whereever you are the moon is too.

Tonight in the grocery store parking lot I was followed out by a Mother and heard her saying this to her toddler aged child.  I turned around because it struck me as so beautiful.

The Moon Follows You Whereever you Go.

Followed without pause with the anxious admonishment of a mother with her hands full of grocery bags and unable to hold the hand she so desperately wants to grab.

And then, again without pause, a reiteration of the beautiful idea of the moon being our constant companion.

She never raised her voice.  I, as an adult who has shepherded children in hazardous areas, heard her anxiety.  I don’t think the toddler did.  He was focused on the wonder of the moon.

She covered all of a mother’s nature in that one unintentional poem.  Teaching and Protecting.



I always believed in you.

In a particular future.

I hadn’t met you.

I just knew you were part of the sequence of my life.

But the moments kept slipping away.

And the time never arrived.

Fate never sought out our meeting.

And I never looked.

And then the doubts began to echo in silent places.

Uncertainty slipped out of the future,

And into the my life.

Denial of doubt began screaming,

Hiding in the denial of the belief.

But the mobius loop of denial eventually broke.

And now my fated future is recognized as an illusion.

Now that future is merely a world visited and not lived in.

Now my escape is fantasizing about you,

A man who never came.

Because he was never supposed to.