Depressive Moment

When confronted with 'heavy waters'

'Stormy seas', 'slippery slopes', 'quicksand' …...


Sheesh! I'm not adding another metaphor!

But, however you eloquently qualify it,

Consider for a moment, a mere moment

Your precise breath - in – out – in – out – in – out 

And focus on some tiny part of your body

A thumbnail, a blue vein, a freckle – anything.

(Even a navel, if handy.)

It is a part of 'you', and 'only you'.

Never before made, never to be reconstructed.

And then, somehow, something 'focuses'.


Remind yourself of more than yourself!

A bug at the window glass, a plant on the sill.

The click of heels along pavement.

A trash truck grinding down the street.


Remember the harbour scene you painted years ago

With a cheap brush and a slim tray of colours.

Not really good, but you actually DID it.

Or the notepaper picture of three cows

Hanging their heads over a stone wall

Looking right at you.

On the kitchen wall to look at every day.

You couldn't pass the rack on the side walk

Because you were HOOKED!

Or the family photo so dear to you,

Smiles greeting all who enter your home.


Self-denigration is not a great pumper-upper.

Think of yourself with pleasure and pride.

No one is better than you, nor less.

Different – of course - but better or less?

No - simply - No.

No one or no thing dictates who you are.

Thinking is powerful either way.

It's worth consideration.

You are in charge.

◄ The Written Word



Frances Macaulay Forde

Tue 17th Sep 2019 05:18

Another beautifully expressed piece, Cynthia.
I certainly need reminding to stop a moment and take in the actual... because I am worrying time will beat me.

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Adam Rabinowitz

Tue 17th Sep 2019 02:53

I try each day to remind myself of exactly what you are saying. I have been reading the desiderata by Max Ehrmann often. Do you know it?


Wed 4th Sep 2019 05:29

Hi Cynthia,

Emotions are fleeting, but the true nature of all matters are revealed through study of the finer details.

A thoughtful piece that I'm glad to have read,


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Don Matthews

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 14:39

Where's your sense of humour Cynthia? Maybe you don't have one? I'll avoid stepping on your toes in future. I wouldn't want to scuff my shoes.

I've just deleted a 'sensible' comment. I don't think you deserve it

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 14:35

OK, Smarty Pants, I meant whether it was buried under clothes or not. Most people would not likely lift a shirt or pull down underwear, to access their own navel randomly. Or flirtatiously. On their own.

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Don Matthews

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 14:28

I'm having trouble Cynthia
I cannot find my navel
I'm sure it was there last time
I looked under the table

I said I am in charge of you
Come out and show yourself
It sits and sulks and won't come out
Tucked in it's navel shelf

Sheesh! Cynthia. I tell it I'm in charge
and it just cowers on it's shelf. Perhaps
I should have glossed over the 'navel if handy' line.......

Devon Brock

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 14:26


This morning, before dawn, I was out with the dog and smoking a cigarette, taking in all the wondrous sounds in the darkness. And when I turned and glanced at the lit kitchen window - there was a moth ticking away at the glass. Your poem brought that moment back to life.



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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 2nd Sep 2019 14:19

I wish I could say where thoughts come from. What might be the motivation. But I can't. And yet, some 'reflections' do seem sincere enough, common enough , to consider 'sharing'. I never - ever - think of sharing as a 'contest'. More like 'communication'. I really do like people and all their diverse ways. All of us so different and so alike at the same time.

And no rose again. I don't know what I have to do. Sorry.

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