Diana Wetzbarger Poetry

Poetry of..
Diana L. Wetzbarger

7 Poems Submitted

SECOND CHANCE LOVE STORY

We were not dewy-eyed children when we met.
We both had families with traditions both joyful and painful.
Both bore complicated scars of loss and loneliness from those former lives.
Our kindred spirits recognized each other through our soul's windows.
and that discovery brought deep happiness to our lives.
Passion and laughter, tenderness and respect, sharing and understanding
all became a part of everyday life; a sweetness not to be missed.
We learned that life and love do not bloom only in spring and summer;
but stretch into autumn and finally the winter of life.
Fate kindly blessed us with the gift of a second chance at love and life.

CHANCE MEETING

You and I nearly collide over the limes in the supermarket,
and when you look at me you see a middle aged woman walking with a cane.
The pain on my face is telling, and I look tired to you.
But look again, you are missing much.
You are not seeing the years of raising children (both joy and sorrow),
of education hard won, of working and helping people in need,
and of the relationships that I have been blessed with.
You are not seeing the hard work of making a life worth living.
When I look at you I see an echo of myself forty years ago,
young and pretty with bright hair and eyes that don't reflect pain.
I see you walk with a spring in your step, confidant that I am not your future.
I see in you my past; we are each a part of the other.
Maybe, if we listen to each other and can really see each other,
we can learn about ourselves.
Because you will become me and I will never be you again.

PINK PETAL TORNADOS

Pink petals dance by in tiny tornados
Across grass and streets,
Spring once again flaunts her presence to my winter weary senses.

LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF CRAZY

Pity the child who lives in the shadow of crazy;
an insane mountain; impossible
to get over, around or through.
A child hiding in the mountain shadow
from the screamers, the hitters, the abusers,
the liars and manipulators,
who refuse to see simply a child.
Inside that child lives a tiny flame.
Someday there will be an escape,
someday things will be different.....
someday... someday .......

LONG DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL

My old ghosts wander through the long winter nights.
Half remembered memories of long ago times and places,
intertwined with elusive faces ... haunting my mind.
Long past voices cry out, small refrains from larger melodies.
Are these ghosts in the darkness, will they flee before morning?
Is this the darkness before the light?
Are these steps toward Awakening, are they a Chimera,
or the Long Dark Night of the soul?
My mind and spirit are chasing down wisdom and grace.

HERO

An unassuming woman, pretty but not beautiful,
did not stand out in a crowd, or make heads turn.
Marjorie was a hero.
It's not easy to recognize one.
Born before WWI, she was a teenage wife of a migrant farmer.
During the Great Depression she mothered four children;
hunger and deprivation were no strangers in her home.
Abused herself, she provided a safe refuge
in a terrified child's world of chaos and pain.
Her love was a constant, her hugs warm.
She loved hollyhocks and violets, cats and old quilts.
She quietly shared her love of cooking, gardening, and handiwork;
profoundly touching our lives.
It was a privilege to hold her hand as she died, and tell her she was loved.
It has been years since her death, but she will always be missed.

MOURNING THE GONE

How do you mourn the loss of one who is gone but not dead?
How do you find a way to move on when someone steps off that cliff into craziness?
What do you do with all the lies, the hurts, and the betrayals?
And how do you reconcile all of those with the good and warm memories?
The body is still there but the voice and eyes are now different; the
person is just gone.
What stole the soul and very essence of the person?
Does that wrenching sense of loss ever fade away?
The person you loved and still love is just gone...........