The Right Choice

The well is dry,

My heart is empty,

The cycle is complete.

Nothing left to do but begin again and fill the well,

Stoke the fires of my soul, and

Let its smoke rise and season my heart.

My heart is well seasoned as this is not its first round.

Time and time again it has been smoked with sorrow.

So, it will either become soft and sweet from the fragrant wood chips

Or hard and tough from the endless heat.

The choice is mine, but am I strong enough to make the right choice?

Only time will tell…

Silent April Snow

The early spring silent snow

Fits my mood.

It is a white dusting of truth

Accentuating every little branch and twig,

Making every little lie all the more obvious.

The silence into which the April snow is falling

Seeps through my eyes and into my heart

As if to smother and quiet its

Telltale beats.

It comes as blessing and a curse by

Prolonging the inevitable with maybe that one last chance.

But I know the sun will come out and

It will all be just a memory …

Once again.

Mine to Claim

There is a light in my words.

They possess a divine luminescence

That does not flow from me

But from a much greater source.

A source above and beyond me.

But the other ones, the dark words,

Where do they come from?

They take over sometimes, in spite of what I say I want.

Where does their power come from? Me, him, somewhere else? Someone else?

They seep into my soul unbidden from a place I don’t want to claim as my own.

They weave their webs around my heart and steal my light.

Their thoughts are dark, their meanings are dark, their hearts are black and broken.

I would feel sorry for them if they were not mine.

They are here to control me, to upset my basket of good and light.

They are mine to deny and disown, but mine nonetheless.

To deny their existence or my creation of them would be to deny a basic part of myself, maybe one I am not proud of but an integral part of me all the same.

So now there remains the question of what to do with them, yet again, or with the me that breeds these destructive thoughts and words…

I don’t know.  To shut them out would be to deny a part of me, and maybe invalidate my good thoughts and words as there can be no light without the dark.

But they are heavy words and sink to the bottom of my soul where they lay neglected but never ever forgotten, and never formally put to rest.

Their dark lingers in my mind as it is familiar and known. I know the depths to which they will take me if I let them, as well as the indifference they feel for my heart and soul.

I should stay away from them as they are cruel in their relentless pursuit of my mind and thoughts, in their attitudes of sorrow and despair.

I think I’ll tuck them away in a folder at the bottom corner of my desktop. Out of the way but not forgotten as

To ignore them gives them power, a power over me that unattended can take me to places I would rather not go, bad places,

 Their places,

Dark and heavy places,

But still they remain

Mine to claim.

 

Waves of Grief (December, 2014)

 

 

 

Grief comes over me like waves on the ocean.

Its waves roll me under and then shove me back to the surface for air,

 

but only just enough air to keep me alive

Before the next wave breaks and drags me back down again.

 

It is a rhythmic dance of hope and despair,

Of light and dark, of breath and suffocation.

 

The rolling waves of grief grow weary with time and come more infrequently and so seem to rest for a while.

 

But the pain lingers, subdued at the back of my soul until

A sound or scent revives it and it comes thundering back.

 

Back with an attitude of indignation to have been

Left where it was, not looked for, not missed.

 

It seems to think it has a right to occupy my mind and heart and

Sometimes it does, but only because I let it.

 

The song that grief sings to me makes my soul hurt and my heart ache

Until my body once again feels his against mine,

 

My head resting on his chest hears his heartbeat and my senses take in the scent and Taste of his skin.

 

My soul feels his touch once more and the potential of his being mingles with mine

In the beauty and magic of oneness.

 

I feel the oneness deep in my heart until the inevitable happens and our song runs out of rhyme once more.

 

With the rhymes gone the waves of grief for what could have been return to remind me of the empty shell I loved and held in my arms and heart.

 

The liquid suffocation that I thought was losing instead gains strength without my permission and

 

Sucks me back down,

 

Again.

 

 

 

Of Love and Light

Nostalgia weighs heavy on my heart tonight, 

And I long for what could have been.

 

But then I remember why it wasn’t but what makes me the most sad is that I also remember 

That it almost was.

 

So wanting and loving, I sit alone in this night of late winter cold as the music of piano and cello drifts through my head.

  The sound of the cello speaks to my soul and caresses my heart.

 

In the melody, I hear two hands playing together in perfect union and feel that

I am as one of those hands, looking for the familiar accompaniment of the other.

 

And so in the depths of this late winter evening I am lost in

Remembering what never was, feeling what didn’t exist,

 

Loving what could have been  

In this time of warm darkness, candle light and winter solitude.

 

Now there exists only a memory of he and I, together yet alone,

Forever wrapped in the spirit of love and light.

 

My Child Self (still there, inside, waiting)

 

Sad little girl,

Come, sit with me.

Let me hold you, dry your tears,

Kiss your sweet little face.

I know you are hurt, I understand, I see her,

I see how she is, how she treats you.

Come and sit close, you can trust me,

I will protect you; there is no hurting here.

I know you are too little to understand, and

Too innocent to see the shame and fear she holds inside.

All you know is the pain of her betrayal.

I know and see how hard you try to please her, yet still she is hateful and mean.

I hear her tell you daily that you are not good enough, are funny looking and how she wishes she had never given birth to you.

I see and feel your pain and frustration, and

It breaks my heart to watch this happen to us.

I have learned and grown while you have waited and now the time has come

For me to come back in time to you, to a time when we were one.

Look for me and don’t be afraid, come close and I will read you a story,

I know she never did.

I will hold you like my baby and sing your sorrows to sleep,

She didn’t know how.

I will show you that you are better than good enough, and

I will prove to you that there is nothing wrong with you, in spite of what she said.

You will never be alone again,

The wait is over.

Trust me my child-self,

I have enough love for both of us, I pinky-promise.

 

 

After re-reading this post it has finally dawned on me why my anger and hurt at being neglected is still so strong… that was my punishment as a child for not being what my mother wanted me to be…. first she would yell at me and then she would ignore me, not speak to me for days at a time, and when she finally did, it was only to affirm how worthless I was… my husband treated me the same way, and so did other men in my life… unbelievable… so wrong and so sad for that little girl who still lives in my heart.

Moments In Waiting

Moments spent waiting with stillness, inactivity, and

Ticking time are the smoothness in the silence and perfection of waiting.

Is it an interruption of love,

A collective ending or …

Maybe just a pause in time,

A stopping of existence which becomes an eternity in thought.

Is time spent waiting, wasted?

  Only the end will tell.

A longing to hold, a missed kiss, an emptying of soul

Fill the moments spent

Waiting.