Preponderance

Eventually, 

there is no longer a preponderance 

of money

or time

but of memories

and of love

This week's One Single Impression Prompt:  Preponderance 

Illusion

The undulating heat waves 

rise up from the miles of 

ever-increasing black top,
creating a wavy wall of illusion,
telling us that we are
detached from our world,
safe in our air conditioned buildings
living our virtual lives
until the heat is gone.

Overt

You notice my feelings,
barely hidden by my mind's
frail denial,
scoop them up
tenderly
and hand them back to me
in your gentle, outstretched hands.

Summer Antiquing

Other peoples' things
sit, collecting dust,
on a crowded shelf,
waiting to stir up murky memories
which swirl around aimlessly
like soft, grey mud
at the bottom of the bay
when you step
oh so carefully
on a summer's evening.

Let me soar

to the heights.

Let me sever the strings

that hold me to the earth--

that are held so tightly
by those on the ground.

Let go

of the lines

that hold me

to the shore

and let me float,

my sails filled

with the breath

of the Spirit. 

In the late afternoon sun
I walk across the parking lot
willing my middle aged brain
to find where I left my vehicle.

I look up to realize
I am surrounded
by cars.

They hover
like giant square bees,
their turn signals nervously blinking.
Each one is certain
that they are the
anointed successor
to my soon to be vacated parking space.

A room of one's own, says Virginia,
is necessary to write Shakespeare,
but is it necessary
to be happy?
What remains after the
dust kicked up by the earthquake of life
settles?  Is there anything underneath?

Perhaps Words remain.
Words to God.  Words to self.
Words to the clean, crisp air,
floating out like silent sound waves
ready to be heard
by some secret someone
in an unseen future.