The flicker of a fairytale catches my eye as it wanders across a golden meadow,
Into an enchanting woodland.
My weary soul yearns to follow.
Yet as a ladybug flitters up the summer screen, entrapped by the scent of open air,
So I must stay here, now, and live honestly.
A small opening I make, for the harassed critter to try.
But its confusion is complete, never daring to dream of an unseen hand that finds a way,
Where no way was possible.
Overwhelming work, niggling worries, sharp words, and putrid passions
Hurry my steps through sunlight hours.
Night dreams bewilder and bother with juxtaposing images, wonderful and terrible.
I sit at the window where late summer breezes promise autumn beauty and comforting coolness.
Storybook perfection in colored leaves of crimson and gold.
Not today…but soon…
From that hope-filled joy, I pull the screen aside and shoo the ladybug,
Where it would not go but wanted to go.
It lives scant days more.
My autumn pleasure will be the death of it.
Though not today.
Today it lives a creature’s mite in our mighty world.
The breeze stirs the leaves and whispers my name.
An unseen hand opens my soul,
Calling me beyond screens and all entrapments.
My life—lived with compassionate love—is a fairytale written by an Almighty Hand
That shoos me where I would not go but want to go.
Longing for a few seasons more,
Yet flying toward an eternal land.