Sue Santiago
Children's Writer & Sometimes Poet
A Time to Dance
When news from my inbox sets my feels a-whirling, my feet a-twirling my pups content to craze by my side it's near impossible to settle my mind -- my mettle is permitted to tarnish for a day Tomorrow the refresh button will tire of my touch. I'll ground myself, dig deep, press on. But today I dance hopes high on cloud nine, grateful I never gave up ©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
Anticipation
This is Joy to Me
A teenage boy retelling his day to his dad. Siblings besting each other, sounds of disgust, responded with laughter. Someone else doing the dishes. This is joy to me. A walk through the woods with four-legged companions. Exploring roads to somewhere, anticipating what the next bend holds. A breath-taking skyscape. That familiar voice after far too long. This is joy to me. When my world shrinks as molehills grow into mountains surrounding me, I remember the Light. How it shined brightest in darkest times. Praise raises, righting my perspective. This is joy to me. That I could wax on about this 'til my candle burned out, This is a joy to me, too. ©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
The Dance
mining joy
joy mined in the moment
crumbles the hardness of the day
©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
simple joy
Unbound
I don't remember where these ropes came from yet here they are Perhaps they were declarations dropped in my path I collected, like a robin, formed them into a nest Likelier still, they were the twine of thin thoughts I knitted together wrapped around me like a security blanket layer after layer becoming protective armor the Light reveals their nature thick ropes that bind that suffocate that steal the freedom designed for me strand by strand the blade of truth will slice through these taut thoughts 'til I'm at last UNBOUND ©2022 Sue Santiago all rights reserved
Juxtaposing Battles
They start in the corner between the couch and the wall. The little one pins herself into small spaces as though it might give her the advantage. They don’t know how to play quietly. Gurgling at each other more than growling.
What is that word?
My reprimand for quiet only encourages them to come closer — to play beneath the table where I sit, bumping into my chair, jostling my thoughts. I can smell their spit and saliva as they gnarl and nip at each other.
Their noises, that smell, fracture my thinking as I chase a word that won’t come. It isn’t montage or combination. Hodgepodge is a fun word, but not right. I’m sure it starts with a W.
Their smell raises a little nausea; it climbs up my esophagus, or perhaps it is my frustration with this stuck word. The thesaurus is no use. Their gnarling gives way to piercing yips.
OH I YELL! Ah! You’re breaking my brain! I cannot think!
Now I’m snarling and harumphing. This darn word! What is this forsaken WORD!? The thesaurus can’t even find it! Google is no help.
How have I completely lost this word? This cluttered art form that I don’t like, but can be useful when brainstorming. What is this W-Word??????
The dogs have vacated from beneath the table. My screams made them scurry. One to lay on the carpet, the other to ring the bell to go out.
Click-clock.
Clickety-clack.
CLACKETY-CLACK-CLACK!
WHAT IS THIS WORD???
I let big dog out. The wind blows a cool kiss.
My phone stares up at me — displaying montage and many words about it. Somewhere in the middle of all of it all are the seven letters I’ve been chasing — that tricky little word that hid under some synapse in my mind — COLLAGE.
What a relief! Stinkin’ collage.
Sue Santiago 