~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Creative director
Life,
is a creative director.
Sometimes following,
a script,
until predictable,
calls for drama,
to be cast,
in a leading role.
Attention seeking,
scene stealing,
focus drawn away,
from intention,
while creative director,
reminds everyone,
of a non-negotiable deadline.
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Whispers at midnight
Are those voices mine,
whose whispers at midnight,
bring an idea to life?
Pieces I memorise,
and sometimes,
force me to turn on a light,
scribble,
barely legible,
ink,
as a vague reminder,
to the writer,
I wake up to.
I love those nights,
filled with whispering,
like a test,
of whether I am listening,
when inspiration,
my imagination,
safe seconds,
as I approach sleep,
stillness,
silence,
and vulnerability,
find me,
a perfect vessel,
ready,
for creation,
to speak,
with quiet grace,
and honesty.
I wonder what…
might be whispered tonight.
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Courage of a caterpillar
I have watched caterpillars,
crawl along branches,
and been fascinated,
with knowing,
what it will become,
through metamorphoses,
growth it will do,
even though,
it does not know,
it is capable of,
such transformation,
in isolated,
hibernation.
If it could foresee,
how beautiful,
it was created to be,
naturally,
to muster
the courage,
to wait patiently,
cocooned,
until delicate wings,
form beauty and strength
to flutter free,
would it believe,
in ….unseen?
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Ink and air
I felt the air
flow across my face
as I meditated
kissed by the sun
bare toes in the grass
eyes closed
heart open wide
a moment
unlike ink
it was impermanent
unseen energy
captured only
by memory.
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Sweet silence
For the overwhelmed,
silence is space.
For the lonely,
silence is heavy.
For the depressive,
silence is loud,
if not deafening,
and sometimes,
a relief.
For a meditator,
silence is home of the soul.
For lovers,
silence is so sweet,
filled with the unspoken,
hearts…open.
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Myth
Will we become,
a rumor,
a fantasy,
a figment of imagination,
or the temporary manifestation,
of divine energy?
A faint memory,
another. . . story,
or perhaps simply dismissed
as a . . . myth.
A missed opportunity,
or extremely missed,
an unfulfilled wish,
or a secret keeper.
The empty chair
an unanswered call,
the height markings on a wall,
a song not played anymore.
I leave behind,
words for discovery –
a vague myth,
or an eternal legacy?
I will never know,
although,
I have faith,
love will echo like the siren’s call.
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Versions
No version,
is perfect.
Some improve,
true,
others do not seem worth
the effort.
Not all are revealed,
we choose,
who we give,
the safe combination to,
editions of us,
otherwise sealed.
Do we ever,
really know them,
ourselves,
or afterwards,
look back,
as if it is someone else?
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
A line to align
We often wait
for others to give to us
our chance
to follow the latest trend
marketed
as self-improvement.
We stand in line
behind
….
Aligning
with your values,
true self,
purpose and pain,
is not an exclusive offer,
like limited edition products,
you have to stand for hours,
in the cold or rain,
to claim.
The only line,
to our alignment,
is the path,
within ourselves,
where we are always,
first served.
. . . . in progress . . . .
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
Word collectors
Some people collect coins,
others collect animals.
There are collectors of awards and accolades.
Memories collected in dusty photo frames.
Some people collect cars.
Toys. Shoes. Movies.
Live insects are collected in jars.
Dead ones are pinned to a board behind glass.
Games. Plants and flowers.
Music LPs. Money. Social media followers and subscribers.
Land and properties like playing real-life Monopoly
(US registered trademark 1935).
Crystal stones.
Silver, platinum and gold.
Instruments. String fairy-lights.
Band members when one leaves unexpectedly or dies.
So, I will tell you about mine.
I am one of the word collectors,
who writes, reads and listens to them
every moment I am alive.
A lifelong student,
expressing my truth.
Word collecting is like a tree growing branches
to mirror its buried, ever-expanding roots.
We all begin to learn a language
from infancy.
At what age do we begin to lose our imaginations
and passion for literary creativity?
When I was told
who I was supposed to be,
I never let their fears take my words
away from me.
I am very proud to be a word collector,
from birth to eternity.
Now, let’s add some to your collection too,
shall we?
©2023 Danielle N Bilski
~ Written by Danielle N Bilski ~
A painting of pastel clouds
Sunset, I see each day,
from my bedroom window,
has been humbling me.
A framed, panoramic painting
of pastel clouds –
saturated, vibrant
and filter-free.
So briefly,
I drink orange sweetness
like watercolour,
as if it might be my last.
Lavender and baby blue
tease my appetite
for intense wonder.
There,
I can get lost
in pink fairy floss,
softness,
floating me,
slowly,
into a marshmallow dream,
back to when I was three
and everything sparkled
magnificently.
Our iridescent world outside,
I could make-believe,
extended to gently
kiss the sun goodnight.
I cannot be
the only one
to thank the artist
with pause for a heartbeat,
filled with immense peace.
Do you admire
fleeting colours
in the sky
like mine?
They remind us
life’s impermanent beauty
is to be admired
and to inspire.
It is our light
to bring inside,
we find
in the rich neon-glowing window
moments
before we close the curtains
and our sleepy eyes
for another night.
©2023 Danielle N Bilski