Tag Archives: healing

Walkers of the Sky

The Force was strong.

The Force was strong.

The pitch of cloudy moonless nights are harrowing

Despite the switch-back trail chosen to navigate

Maneuvering childish thoughts jagged and narrowing

You said, “Bring the child back home.”

The misty breathy wisdom cites a frightened wraith

With parental patient guidance blessed wisdom

Exhuming trust, from brittle bones, from a wild-haired waif

You said, “Return the child back home.”

With coward’s yellow pungent stench un-protecting

Winter’s breath of springing fallen truths disarming

The summer child sees comfort’s spirit connecting.

You whispered, “You’re safe. Come home.”

The offerings

Hands of Offering

Hands of Offering

Where there are tears,

offer relief.

Where there is despair,

offer belief.

Where there is darkness,

offer your light.

Where there is injustice,

offer human rights.

Where there is loss,

offer a shoulder.

Where there is a spark

offer to smolder.

Where there is plenty,

offer to share.

Where there is anguish,

offer repair.

Where there is emotion,

offer your being.

Where there are shackles

offer the freeing.

Where there is chaos,

offer a peace.

Where there is frustration,

offer release.

Brushed Out

Clumps of dirt, dust, and debris rotted my brains

whenever I tried to speak to passers by

I’d hold my beggar’s cup earnestly pushing

for loose change to fall chiming into the depths

speaking foul breathed words of backwards intent

Clumps of zombie flesh fell from my body

repulsing potential friends, disgusting possible employers

until

I blinked my eyes to dream and you coalesced

pristine

extraordinary

You made strange sense of my chaos, spoke to me

with careful brush strokes through my tangled words

Ever so gently you tugged at my self-loathing,

conditioned my confidence,

curled my toes with affection,

showered me with the truth through your actions

as you loved my pieces back together.

With frightened squalling wails of labor,

forsaking all others

I was born into redemption with your hand embracing mine

the day I agreed with you that I am worthy of love

When he left, he took:

professormcbeezleEvery one of my canvases and paints but not the colors

every light bulb in the house but not the light

every shade from the windows but not the curtains

every blanket from my beds but not the warmth

every canned good from my cupboards but not the bread

every animal from their house but not the pets

every gift he was ever given but he left empty handed

every hug and kiss sprinkled with praise but not the love

and I let him go because he asked with action not with word.

When I’m Alone

The Clipper Ship Blue Jacket On Choppy SeasAm I Schrodinger’s cat locked in a coffin that I can’t see?

Am I my own imagination come to life or who others want to see?

Am I an earthquake that shakes the foundation of your beliefs?

Am I the whirlwind that’s met with cautious alacrity?

Am I so enigmatic I am hidden even from myself?

Am I a magician’s assistant that performs with infuriating stealth?

Who am I when there’s nobody around to witness me?

Am I just a wanderer piloting my ship on the popped blue collar sea?

Well then, here we are

Last Friday I had surgery on my ankle to fix chronic pain that I incurred when my body decided it would be a great idea to not only enlarge my foot nerve, but attach it to the major artery running through said foot. So whenever I would step, extend, or use my foot, I was in constant pain. However, after the surgery, I feel so much better that I’ve been tempted to overdo it a bit because I can’t believe how much better I feel. Although I have irritation from the surgery site and some pretty impressive stitches, the pain level is more at a pinch instead of a cut-my-foot-off-for-the-love-of-Pete!

But I’m back and rolling again.

My friend posed the question: What if someone said “I love you” and you never heard it? It inspired the following poem entitled Rejected Love.

desertoasis

I’ve been told “I love you” in a million different ways

By thousands of different mouths promising devotion

In actions and in words designed to set my heart ablaze

With alchemic bumbling, “Drink this Number 9 potion.”

But the spells they cast upon my heart break up before they land

Their intentions not as holy as the unguarded that you proffered

In the secret place you’ve discovered, my oasis in the sand

While you accepted my treasure trove, they could not be bothered.