Catherine’s wheel

It never quit, yet somehow, it halted.
Spluttered, spat and fizzled
then faded out of sight.
A Catherine wheel of fiery
energy that once had spun so fast.
Rotated sadly, slowly, powered
on by momentum of former glory.
Finally just a stationary statue
still pinned upon its pedestal,
a totem pole, a fallen idol
to a following, long forgotten.
Its ashes carried in the breeze
from dust those words had come,
now returned to earth, reclaimed.

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Musings and Smatterings

There is a lyric, somewhere,
lost
between the altruism of truth and hope.

I saw a man today,
crepe paper skinned
encased in an ancient armchair.
Twinkle in his eye,
from his lips came a century’s
memories in a blink of an eye.

His nurses laughed as
stories of his long forgotten
brothers in arms melded
with grandsons and a wife
Twenty years gone
still remembered with a tear.

His family grieved
as he clutched that telegram
from a Queen he’d served with his youth.
Blinded by age,
not seeing the vibrant truth that sat,
in an oversized cardigan before them.
His soul as clear as the day he
squalled from his mothers thighs.

There are truths, and Truths
and lessons
and miracles
and hope.

Where do you look?

There is a lyric, somewhere,
lost
between the altruism of truth and hope.

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