Life is like walking on ice
Life can be blessed, messy, or both
Life is like walking on ice
I see us all in my mind’s eye
Walking funny walks
Each of us trying to navigate
The ice-coated paths
We have set out upon
******
We are all going in different directions
Some together, some alone
Some with help
Some all on their own
******
The paths are many different types
Well-worn paths where the ice is thin
And not nearly so treacherous
Or narrow barely traveled ones
Still others never before trodden
******
Where we are going?
Why we are going there?
Answers are as varied as the people and their paths
Some have a strong knowing and purpose
While others are winging it
Barely staying on their feet
Maybe dancing on the ice
Or outright falling
Even landing with a hard thud
To rise again …. Or not
******
We laugh at the antics of others
Deep belly laughs at the fallen
A few offer hands to help
But many are too busy staying afoot
******
Life can be blessed
Life can be messy
Life can be both
******
Life is like walking on ice
About the Creator
Pam Reeder
Stifled wordsmith re-embracing my creativity. I like to write stories that tap into raw human emotions.
Author of "Bristow Spirits on Route 66", magazine articles, four books under a pen name, technical writing, stories for my grandkids.
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More stories from Pam Reeder and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
Outstanding!!! 💖😊💕
I'm the one winging it, falls down and then never rises. Because it is what it is. Lol! I loved your poem!
Yes! To me, it is most definitely both :) Loved the analogy, great work.
Interesting and thought provoking poem. Job well done!
So, so beautiful. 💗
Very true Pam sometimes it can be fun , other times we can slip and hurt , and the worst is when the ice breaks and we go under. A great poem and a wonderful image