Recently a dear person from my extended family exclaimed how I had inherited a bleak streak of the passion for writing from my father, and fairly good skills at multi tasking, sewing and cooking from my mother! Such a relief to hear after putting behind me a little over half a century! That’s such a delicate responsibility…carrying star images of the genes we are born with.

Genes are what they are…mixed bag of urchins and fairies. Life is always a work in progress until we have tamed our urchins! Bad…blame it on the genes. Good…well, grab the limelight. The real shifts must happen within. Some battles are fought alone…when the enemy lives within.

Maelstrom

The first fight
with my own genes.
Wind rasping around
roughs and sharps
returns to the sky
like a wounded tigress.
What time have I
for the clanging of
my world’s discord!
What words have I
for my world
locked in silence!
I lose singing rivers,
dancing rains, to quieting
of the foes within.
The anthem of unweeded land
grows louder and louder.
When would win I
the gossamer of my own weave!

Happy weekend and may our good genes rule us.