It Doesn’t Matter

Don’t tell me you can’t,

Can’t is a lie

Can’t is a choice

Tell me you won’t

At least that is honest. 

You can, I know you can.

You have before, or was

That a won’t, or maybe just a should.

Could always be a should and

Maybe even a won’t too but,

There is always that “but”.

Always that lie.

Always the “I can’t”.

But this time it doesn’t matter because,

I won’t. 

She is Not a Quitter

 

My little heart keeps asking me “why?”

I hear her tiny voice in the quiet early morning hours,

but I have no answer for her.

She has stayed up all night again.

Thinking about the past, feeling the pain and sorrow of the now.

She has fallen into a deep dark pit,

Her little voice echos off the steep, cold sides.

I keep reaching out to her but her tiny hands

Have not the strength to hold on.

So she sinks back to the bottom and

Remains in sorrow and darkness.

It is so painful to witness this.

She used to be such a happy little thing,

Always positive, always trusting.

Albeit, sometimes a bit too naive for her own good,

But it was a naiveté not based on stupidity or ignorance but

One based on a choice to trust and believe in spite of the red flags not to.

I am afraid for her, she is tired and there are

Beasts down there with her in the darkness.

They are evil, heartless beasts who lie to her,

Who tell her she is not good enough, that she is unlovable and a fool.

They sneak in while she sleeps and

Whisper doubts in her ear.

I keep trying to tell her to be strong and not listen to their lies,

But I don’t think she can hear me yet.

So, I wait on the edge of the pit

With an open mind and open hand to catch her the next time she climbs to within my reach.

I don’t mind waiting.

I know she will try again soon in spite of her pain and sorrow.

I have faith in her – she is not a quitter.

Passions

I know that I love what I love.

My passions are many.

The sound of thunder ignites my soul.

The scent of simmering soup warms my heart.

My passion overflows for clear glass bowls and jars,

Shelves full of home-grown goodness,

Baby smiles and sighs,

Forest trees and critters,

Gardens full of life and love,

Friends and family,

Krishna’s promise of another day of light and joy and

My lover’s heartbeat at midnight.

My passions consume my heart and fill my soul and body

Leaving no room for sadness and negative thoughts as

I have no passion left for them.

Like Me

New friends.

We are so much the same,

Yet so different.

Is his smile a window to his thoughts?

Or a decoy for his sadness.

Are his jokes a sign of a lighthearted man?

Or a disguise covering something darker.

His story is like so many others,

Full of disappointments and fear, sadness and hurt.

Much like mine.

We are so much the same,

Yet so different.

We engage in small talk to lay a foundation,

Our lighthearted joking starts a deeper conversation.

But is it too soon, too raw, too scary?

There seems to be so much more to know about each other,

But, really, is that knowledge even necessary?

We appear to be so much the same, yet still feel so different.

Some of my stories are outdated and need to be let go and left behind.

They are no longer relevant,

No longer important to new friends,

Who, I have just come to realize,

Are so much more like me than we are different.

 

 

My Hands

My hands are softer now,

More wrinkled but softer.

The physical strength of youth has faded

But the strength of endurance has remained.

Life is softer now too,

Also more wrinkled but softer.

Youth’s sharp edges have been dulled,

Made safer by times wearing.

Just as water over rocks smooths and polishes them,

My physical shape too changes with time but

My inner song remains the same.

 

Unnoticed

There is magic in this night.

Brilliance in its darkness and darkness in its light.

Tonight, my soul is deep in the arms of midnight,

Too deep to see,

Too blind to know,

Its cries too silent to be heard.

I am astounded by the simplicity of this midnight,

But also shocked by its truth.

Too much time has passed with too little thought and

Now… what of now? 

It is gone.

Forever to remain,

Unnoticed.

God Space

The night sky displays

A sea of stars that shine as

Pinpoints of hope in the darkness.

It is a sweet darkness,

A still darkness in the arms of God.

He holds his creation close to his heart and

Gives it space to grow and spread His promise of love’s light.

The confluence of our channels of prayer and the gathering of oms has the power to

Open the sails of change.

Sails that steer ships with hulls full of enlightened souls

Through the welcoming love of God’s thoughts

Populating the emptiness between the stars

And the heart of the Creator.

It is through us that His word becomes manifest

And His darkness is empty no more.

He Understood

When I stopped talking to God,

He stopped talking to me.

When I stopped listening to him,

He stopped listening to me.

He is not spiteful,

Just  honest.

When I blamed him for my circumstances,

He shed a single tear in eternity and was sad for my choices.

When I was angry with him for a death,

He understood.

When I questioned the reasons for my being,

He sent inaudible words of encouragement into the lonely darkness of my soul, words only I could hear.

When I pulled my hand from his grasp,

He stood back and quietly waited for my return with infinite patience.

And when my errant ways finally did lead me back to him,

He treated me as if I had never left.