Brick streets
People I
Haven’t seen
In thirty
Years.
No locked
Doors.
Tractors..
Pickup trucks.
Lots of
Yes ma’am
And no sir.
Community.
I get
Lost
Sometimes…
In the
Rush
The city…
The traffic
And the
Crazy.
Makes me
Lose
Myself.
But this
Place
Call it
What you
Will…
But it is
Home.
It’s a
Balance
I know this..
But when
You need
To heal
Find yourself
Remember
Who you
Are..
This is
The place…
This is
Johnny Cash
This
Is
Van Morrison..
This is
Quiet..
And soothe
Your soul..
This is where
You raise
Your children ..
Hayrides and bake sales.
This is 7th grade
Got your back…
Till you are ready
To leave
This earth..
This
This is
Cornfields
And
Haylofts..
This
This is
Real
Life…
And this
Is just
What I
Needed
To remember
Who
I am..
And where
I came from.
Home
Baby Girl
She is beautiful ..
She is pink
And sparkles..
And happy..
But then
Again
She is
Her mother.
She is a
Dream.
She is
All grown up
Now.
She is tiny
But she is huge…
She is
Dark…
She is
Remarkable.
She knows me..
Really knows me…
She calms me.
A mother
Herself now.
I knew
Her centuries
Ago..
And yet she had
The grace
To come
Back
To me.
She is strong..
I gave her
All I had
And now
She is stronger
Than me..
She settles me..
Beautiful
Beyond words.
Smart mouth
Cut you
To the quick…
Beautiful
Beautiful …
My baby girl.
Shaken
You shook me
I’ll give you
That.
But I’ve been
Shaken
Before…
To the
Core.
Shaken
Good
And
Shaken bad…
Things that would
Bring most
To their
Knees.
I stand
Strong..
That’s the thing
About
Me..
You
May
Shake
Me…
But
Me baby..
I don’t
Stay
Shaken
For
Long.
The Closet
Here we are..I’m busy…and so is she. I get that feeling. She is hiding it the best she can..but she is busy. Overwhelmed busy. Too many phone calls..too many obligations..but she is here. She has a smile on her face. She is tired…days..months..maybe years tired..but she is tired. We are in a beautiful place…3 meals a day served…housekeeping done…designer decorated. Beautiful place. It’s going to be her place. Her place till the end. We don’t mention the end. We talk about the room…and the amenities…how nice it is going to be for her. It’s not her home..she is giving up that. She has lived her life ..her home..her children are raised and gone. This is the end for her. It’s beautiful..the people are nice..they will clean…they will cook for her…they will check on her now and again. But this is the last stop. I watch the kindness..from her daughter..tender..respect..she knows. She knows..she remembers. This woman raised her..got up in the night. Worried endlessly. First days of school..vaccinations..proms..heartache. She remembers..even if her mother doesn’t. She is the keeper now. Time has stopped for me..she is showing her the closet..how nice it is..how big it is. She can fit a lifetime of memories in this closet..she will have to. She probably doesn’t know where she is …or at the very least won’t remember..but she is here. We are all going to be here. The respect and love is admirable…the patience. With the time stopped I see it…the circle. I see her as a toddler as she teaches her…shows her…what life is. We have come around..to this. The circle of life. She has taught her well..she doesn’t falter…no matter how many times she has to repeat herself..about the size of the closet..the place…she keeps her smile. I think about the mother and all those days has brought her to this. A closet..a room..three meals a day. It means something. It passes too quickly. I think about mine…my grandmother..my mother…my daughter..who is carrying an angel…it is a circle. As much as we would like to think we are different..we are not. We are the same. We are getting through life. We are tired. We smile. We love…and some day..some day we will be in a proverbial room with a nice closet..and three meals a day and pray to God that no matter how tired she is..no matter how tired she has been for a long time… She loves us..really loves us. She pretends …she smiles..but she makes us loves that closet even if we don’t remember.
Puzzle Pieces
Some pieces no matter how much time you give them..which way you turn them..how much you want them to work..they just never really fit. Sometimes you just have to gather them all back up..put them back in the box and know that you tried your very best.
Heartbeats
Resting in the same room I am struck by a deep sense of gratitude. Less than a year ago I was unable to exhale for fear he would not return from battle. Now with the sun spreading light across the room.. he sleeps..I won’t.. but I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. I imagine when we are in this close proximity of our children..that one heart slows down the other speeds up until they beat as one again….. With this calm the realization that without all the fear and anguish this would look suspiciously like an everyday moment…knowing now it is anything but ordinary.
Mirrors
He avoids mirrors..that image staring back at him. Finding that when he looks inside.. that feeling in the pit of his stomach returns. Reminding him that no matter how much life has passed…regardless of how many good deeds he has performed since then….some betrayals are so gutting that there really just isn’t enough forgiveness in the universe to fill that void.
Who I Am
No matter the time or the distance..she’s that person..the one that no matter how far off track I have gotten..how much life has gotten in my way and clouded my thinking..she shakes me awake and helps me remember just exactly who I am.
Heavens
The heavens opened up for
me
today..
rained blessings.
He shed his armor
uniform..
my terror.
Shed them all…
if only for a few hours.
They will scoff at me..
call me over dramatic.
But
they
have
never done
without
me.
I have
felt the
ache
of
me
without
them..
It’s coming..
some day
not yet.
I have
done
without
them…
For twenty long years..
preparation for them.
Heaven
I imagined…
preparing for their
arrival.
So when
one
of
us..
is
separated
from
the
other…
where
there
was three..
three
is not.
odd..
three is
the
trinity..
So we
are
reunited
whole
three
pieces..
pieces
pieces
of
me…
all
gathered
up
again..
beautiful
children..
ugly
memories
war..
and
suffering…
gather it
all
up
beautiful
souls
I
that which is
one
again…
The
heavens
open up.
they sing.
Over dramatics
aside
my
soulmates…
I
know
their
voice.
before they
speak…
They are
me…
pieces of
me..
and
my
God
they
Sing……………………
Regret
Regret
Regret
Little scraps of paper,
phone numbers,
addresses,
email addresses…
shoved into pockets
books
old letters
things you should have said
things you wish you would have said
had the courage to say…
calls you should have made.
People you should have loved.
Those are the things that would have
saved you
from feeling this way.
Saved you from this regret.
