Hidden Anguish

Sometimes, only sometimes,

my arms ache from the need

to hold a child,

not any child, my child.

I need to hold her

close & secure next to my heart

so I can breathe in

the sweet aroma of innocence,

and feel the softness of

her small, tender body.

Sometimes, only sometimes,

my body & soul hunger to hold

in my lonely arms

the young child that once was,

and then bury my nose in her

neck so I can take in the

intoxicating elixir of purity,

love, and radiant warmth

that infuses life into every

corner of my existence.

Sometimes, only sometimes,

I am strong enough to silence

my aches and forlorn desires

for the palpable love of my child.

Somehow, I am able to hide those

feelings that emerge from

the depths within,

feelings that refuse to die,

feelings that I know will rise again,

time & place unknown.

                                                © Mildred Santiago 2015

Trees and Life

Trees are majestic creatures

whose roots dig deep into earth

as they search for

sustenance, balance… life.

Above the ground its trunk, over time,

grows wide & tall,

as if to flaunt its strength and

honorable place in nature.

Its branches reach out into the sky,

seemingly in search of wisdom and,

as the seasons come & go,

they reflect the bareness

of necessary solitude,

followed by bursting green leaves

that  proclaim the beauty of life.

And then, in time,

we witness in awe the emergence of

orange, yellow, and red leaves,

visible agents of change.

Oh magnificent trees that teach us

how at times our own lives

need be lived in necessary solitude,

with brief interludes of bountiful living,

followed by crucial, perhaps painful,

passages of change.

Only then can we, from season to season,

recalibrate our lives,

knowing that therein lies

our wisdom, honor, and strength.

                                                            © Mildred Santiago 2015