White Cleaning the House
There are many roads leading
Hunters, hackers and miners in search
Of gold nuggets of dreams following
The astrology of mind placing the cards
Face up or down in the austere,
Veneered lonely
Office.
The roads splinter off the main road–
Hunters to woods, miners to mountain
Peaks and hackers drum away kicking dirt
On the road obscuring the heebie-jeebies
For even the hackers are afraid of the delete
Key that might not delete all the wrong doings.
There are many ways to come clean
By being sober and willing to get wet
In the rain, and intimate
With your naked dreams
That bring you to the juncture
Of cross roads,
Not back to the cold, lonely office
But to your heart that circulates
The warm blood.
Yenna Yi
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A Mother’s Prayer
I hope my gifts to you
have survived over time.
Perhaps they have even overshadowed
less desirable things I piled on.
I have always wanted you to grow well
with necessary strength.
I know I was worried too often, and
hovered in the background, cursed
by my own fears and insecurities.
I am sure they were never welcome.
In spite of the negatives,
I watched you set sail.
I knew your boat was well found,
a sturdy craft without leaks.
You seemed ready for storms
and turbulent seas,
and you showed skill
when required.
I saw you stumble but
nicely recovered.
As your mother I could never
truly let go.
I answered always with my heart
and hoped you heard.