Sunday, 18 September 2022

Fall Equinox 2022

 

Untitled (Hula II)
Mixed Media on Paper -- 11" X 14"
Ruth Ann Howden


          Gifts

Softly my room fills

gentle with breeze, generous

caress from the sea



Entangled Series
linen paper, pen, ink, pencil, collage, tape, bamboo
7" X 12" each
Ruth Ann Howden



Ode To My Pain


I just want to lie down

give up now, why even start.

My body aches from inside to out 

and all the joints in between.

How can my head suddenly be 

too heavy for my neck to hold? 

That constant balancing trick seems impossible 

down to my fingers and toes chanting twenty times NO. 

I’ve got to lie down.


I’m trying to make lite of the grief of growing old — 

the counting of people and things let go

my playful side all played out.

These scars are my medals, 

the lines on my face, rewards.

Another birthday, another victory

as still I put one foot in front of the other. 


And not just me, my friends and 

sisters return my gaze, all old.

We still achieve, playing our part —

a helping hand here, a donation there.

Presenting continual challenge for

doctors to puzzle out the pains

and daily supporting Big Pharma’s pills.


What is left? 

Memories yes, 

satisfaction of my decisions

joy of questioning/solving problems

gratitude for chosen home

surprise of new ideas, especially my own, 

but

this too will pass. 

All we can do, according to Ram Dass, is

‘walk each other home’


Slowly moving now in smaller circles

with the aid of our wheeled walkers —

Reciting poems.





Kamakou 


        (4970’ — highest point on Molokai, 

as seen from my front door)


My mountain sits 

in royal repose

accepting all —

shadows and sun

pleas and gratitude 

Displaying patience of centuries

pulling us backwards and forwards in time

balanced in constant change

 








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