trust in you

trust in you
in the slow of the spinning
earth
grinding on its axis
involuntary rotation
a reminder
hands tied in desire
rope that burns hands
harder we pull
try to stop revolving
cosmic tug-a-war
i will never win
and so
i release the harness
lay gently at my feet
open hands
free heart
for the unfolding to occur
i
along for the ride
trust in you
mother

Open Hands, Free Heart

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risking the rain

risking the rain
she stood in the rain
drenched, wet, in socks alone
no shoes
but that fit her
and where she stood
in life
unprepared
unprotected
unabashed
she walked outside
leaving behind her shoes
knowing she might feel the rain
she chanced it
she ventured out without regard
hoping that desert days would be upon her
stocking feet enough
keeping out the sand
smoothing off the rough edges
insulating the drafty dark
but then the rains came
torrents of precipitation
cascading right where she stood
saturating those socks
soaking her spirit
she looked up at that sole cloud
above her baptized body
saw Mother smiling
pouring down Her potable
to cleanse her being
and so she danced
socks and all

Wet Socks

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There is something beautiful about risking. There are all the gains for yourself; knowing you tried, living without regret, being brave….

But there is also the exquisiteness you bestow on another when you risk for them. Even if it doesn’t turn out they way you hoped. Even if you’re disappointed, discouraged and distressed or heartsore, heartsick and heartbroken, there is a treasure there. You have given them a jewel, which only can be given with that act of risk. You have demonstrated with more than words, how valuable they are, how precious you consider them. It is a feeling that you transfer and gift to them that no card, poem or song can capture. It says,

“You are worth it. You are worth the possible pain I may endure. You are of sterling value in this world. You are cherished.”

It is in realizing how special you have made someone feel that you can rejoice in your action. Instead of being miserable in soaking wet socks in the rain, now able to dance to the music of that act of love.

Tidal

Tidal
New instruction
About sitting in this suffering
Not shielding my heart
Not shying my eyes
Embracing and accepting
Feeling in it
Growing in it
Letting it wash over me
Like a gentle tide
First splashing my feet
Up over my feeble legs
Drown my sick stomach
Atop my aching heart
Suffocating my breath
I submerge into the sorrow
Sinking down to the sandy floor
Scraping along the coral
Awake to all the life around me
No anchor holding me
Only me own weight
As the heaviness lifts
So do I
Rising to the frothy top
I float
Gasping at air
The sweet sweet taste of oxygen
Billowing into my lungs
Enlivened again
And ready to swim

Waves

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The grief process is never-ending. Just when I think I have conquered it, or part of it, like a Hydra, another head sprouts. I have tried several ways of dealing with these episodes: denial, therapy, positivity, and now embracing. I embraced the suffering this past week. I allowed it to be, felt it all, and moved through it. I’m certain there will be more chances to try out this method, there always is. Just keep swimming in deep water and floating in the shallow end.

sprouting

sprouting
severed and shorn
down to the nub
blood supply starved
wings of ivory black
withered and wilted
shrunk and shriveled
folding down
the cascading card tower
finally detaching
feathers fall free
lost and lanker
without her wings
she wonders wayward
looking for lucidity
she finds her feet
a fine replacement
for that feel of flying
at least for a few
but eventually those
feet wear tire
eroding down
losing their momentum
she looks upward
praying to her God
to give her hope inside
hopeless hands
head bowed in defeat
a gust of wind causes
a graze along her spine
tickling and tingling
touching her jacket
of taut skin
reaching back stroking
the snowy plumes
where those tired tufts
had succumbed
were a new way
to rise above
the mourning melancholy

New Wings

prep

prep
whittling away the wormed wood
chipping off the char blackened
bitter edge of stringent rind
shaved down past the pith
get to the good grit
unearthing the inner kernel
the fleshy fruit of sweet
juicy marrow
frail and naked
open and available
to welcome you
and love you fully

Peaches

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chasm

chasm
calling out
to clear silence
captured on the wing
of a solitary songbird
carrying me wayward
relinquishing me
right above a deep
chasm

The Deliverer

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Another major turning point in my life this week. I’m still reeling and rebounding from that little act of kindness blessed upon me earlier this week.

One thing about losing all your blood family is that loneliness becomes a part of you.  Deep in your core you wonder if everyone is going to leave you.  Or that everyone has the potential to leave.  Nothing is permanent.

Impermanence is a state of the human condition.  So is needing a sense belonging.  I have no one in this world I can say, “we are blood, so I know you will be there to support me.”  Kids are not these roles.  I am that for them.  Recognizing that no one has to be there for me is true loneliness.  It is a dark river that runs deep through me.  I can focus on the river bed and the flowers growing bed side for some time, but there are other times when the singularity of my life is at the very forefront.

A few things happened when I was gifted those flowers.  First, and what I will carry with me is that I had the kindness of people reaffirmed to me.  I realized that that there are always people who will love and care for me.  They will extend themselves for me in small and grand ways and that is comfort.  I spent a good portion of that day in tears over this whisper of salvation.

These tears were cleansing and necessary.  They flowed as rapidly as that river of loneliness.  And I like to think that it was that river pouring forth from my soul, out and into the earth, nourishing new life.  Those tears rolled in the realization that Charlotte, my neighbor, was the courier of those flowers, but God was the bestower.  He sent those flowers for me on that day, at that time because I needed to be reminded of how it’s best to deal with tough situations by the way of love.  I needed to be hugged close, told ‘it will all be okay, baby’, and refueled to do the same to my own baby, who is in the pit of his own emotional despair.  I needed love.

This reminder that I always have God in my life was truly another crack opening my heart even wider.  I spent much of the day yesterday feeling a connectedness to this world that transformed my heart more.

Then there is the rebound.  Today, in the depths of emotional drain, I remember the reason I need this reminder is that I don’t have these people physically here.  They aren’t here for me to share my heart.  I know it’s not forever.  I know we will meet again.  In the meantime, I am trying to feel that warm hug that was delivered with those flowers to tow me along that obsidian river.

How Did I Find You?

How Did I Find You?
Riding on a star
In the dark cosmos
Barely able to see
My own fingers at my face
Out of the black
A sparkle in the distance
Gravity drawing me
Closer and closer
Unable to break the tether

I tried

I tried to move left
Avoid the pull
Shake off the enchantment
I tried to go right
Close my eyes
Ignoring the lure

But even with closed eyes
I saw your eyes
Those sparkles in the distance
Now behind my own lids
And each pass of my orbit
Around yours
Scribes those etched eyes
Deeper and darker
Never to be erased

As I delve deeper in
Diving into your soul
I am only unable to resist
The force from some divine entity
Placed upon me
In finding you
When I was never searching
Making it all the more
Predetermined in the palms of
Fate

Star in the Darkness

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