Janine Goullée

The Unexpected

I’m standing at the edge of the abyss
the air whispers past

Cool tendrils lick my face
my cheeks and limbs

My imagination conjures fears
worse than reality could ever be

Loss – of choice, will and delight
being trapped, enslaved

I’m standing at the edge of the abyss
and fear itself is a loss of freedom

The unexpected frightens me
at every turn, too many possibilities

I try to move, to step back
all is mist, a blur as

standing at the edge of the abyss
I plunge over, let go

and confront the unexpected
by not plummeting

All words pulled from my grasp
I lie suspended –

continue in slow motion
Wings surround me

Kindred souls await my discovery
and touch me, gently

All is clear and bright
washed clean by the rains

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Janine Goullée

The Walk

Of different colours
the sun pushing cautiously through,
tickling birdsong and hills.
Bushes shimmering with the wind
visiting fields and seas,
with a cool whispering caress
through the hills. Later on
dancing shadows  cast on the cliffs.
Stilted  slow swaying trees,
only a pale green mist drifting
into tiny air wisps.
A day of self discovery,
layered far horizons,
lunch shared with fat basking lizards,
we rested, exhausted.
Lazy dragonflies dip into
pools of deep still water.
Moving, purply-black canopies –
ferocious elements
escalate to their true power. cloistering together
for comfort, we know that no-one
will visit, save the wind.
Souls have been filled with her power.