Shadows linger on his face
Long after the sun has risen,
marking the path of light and love
I wove in the stillness of the night.
Lost in passion, with my being pressed into his,
My heart was consumed in the heat of darkness
Leaving only the shadows that linger to contain
the parts of me I have chosen to leave behind.
My heart now knows and feels that
Which my mind can only dream of.
This change in attitude has produced
A change in my reality.
Losing that burning anger has
Opened the doors to peace and
My emotions have taken on a new life with
A fresh perspective.
What once was clouded and dark
Now is clear and shines with an inner light all its own.
My old thoughts are powerless against me,
Their negativity replaced with the beautiful truth I see in his silent smiles.
In truth is found respect.
My perception of what was has shifted and
True compassion has filled the once painful void in my soul.
That which I saw in anger
Now is tempered by a flood of loving kindness.
So, the sting of the cruel mother’s words, the hurtful ex-husband, the heartless lovers of the past
Has faded and softened into acceptance,
An acceptance of the frailties and humanness of being human.
The unintentional infliction of pain and betrayal has lost its power to hurt and linger now that
My eyes see with a new light.
It is the light of amber afternoon love, of kindness, beauty and strength. A deep, deep love without conditions — as God meant love to be.
So now I can relax and just let it be.
Let it all unfold as it should and must, and be what it may.
I finally understand that my wanting and needing are just more obstacles in the way of just letting what is meant to be… be.
Please be patient with me love, my heart has recently been reborn.
This is a day to walk away from what was
And begin anew.
A new life, a new hope,
A new light and home,
A new season, a new feeling,
And sometimes a new beginning from the old.
A time to rebuild, renew and remold –
Myself.
In these beginnings there exist endings.
Some welcome, some not.
What I thought was, wasn’t and
What I thought was done, was not.
But now there is a mellowness, a warm light,
A subtle joy in these changes as
I sense a grace in my thoughts, a softening of my soul,
A warming of my heart,
A fullness of my being and
A richness in my life.
This new now brings me peace, gratitude and
Strength, along with an acceptance of what is,
The ability to let go of what was as it is gone,
And to think not of what may be as that is yet unknown.
And so with faith I will rest in the arms of the now and hold dear against my chest,
Like the tiny body of a baby, my heart and watch its pain and sorrow melt away and
Drift with the tide out to sea,
Comforted by the light and love of the full moon.
At last I can rejoice in the here and now
And hold close the loves in my life without fear.
I will fill my soul with gratitude for this new peace and
Begin each day with love for the miracle it is and
The joy that these new beginnings bring.
Hari Om
September’s muted sunshine and billowing clouds
Speak of a change to come, a change already begun.
In soft subtle shifts of afternoon shadows and heavy morning dew laden grass,
Autumn makes its arrival known.
Summer slides sleepily away, the heat having worn her out
As the freshness of fall takes her place.
Meadow grasses turn brown
And Goldenrod losses its shine.
Milkweed pods bust open, trusting their future generations to the wind and
Flocks of geese gather together to finalize their flight plan.
In the subtle softness of September the world is poised for transition.
There is no harshness to September…
The cold biting winds and freezing temperatures
Are saved for November and the first dusting of frost for October.
September exists to give us a gentle push towards winter,
While reminding us from week to week and sometimes day to day of what we will miss
Until spring arrives again and the earth warms, the geese return and
The faith of the milkweeds is fulfilled.
Garden statues in the dark are
Emotions frozen in time.
They are profiles of love in stone
Whose souls touch in the night while
Shadows hide their truth.
Earth turns the statues away from the night and towards the sun,
Always chasing its light and warmth
In an endless journey from light to dark
And back again while
Heart statues stand, emotions frozen in time as
Profiles of love frozen in faith.
Changes are not always positive
Or swift.
Some drag, leaving behind a trail
Of sorrow.
Some move quickly, leaving no time to dwell
In the past.
Some changes are painful but for the better.
Some are just the way it is, neither good nor bad.
We decide which way to go, to let go
And move on or stay stuck, resisting the change.
I don’t know which is harder to do….
I think it depends in a large part on the nature of the change…
Change happens with or without my permission.
Me and you are not the same people we were just moments ago.
The cosmos has reinvented itself a thousand times in the last ten minutes.
So change is common, a fact of life and existence so why do our
Human situational changes sometimes linger
Beyond what they should and so become more important than they really are?
Even a change brought about by me is hard to handle. It is a step away from what has been and a step into a new future, a good future, a better place within me, yet unsettling nonetheless.
And although change is inevitable, there are consistencies in my life for me to lean on and appreciate in the face of change…
Tomorrow will still come, the sun will rise and shine through my soul and soften the pain that still lingers.
The hoots of the owls in the forest outside my window will strengthen my heart as morning turns to day and the thoughts in my head turn towards the goodness and excitement of the life changes before me.
In spite of uncertainty, these changes are good. The dark past has settled and sunken to the bottom of my soul where it will always remain, never forgotten, but will no longer be able to hold me captive in its cold grip. It’s and his falseness and deceptive nature have been fully exposed and rejected.
So the change that has come is the right one. It is long overdue, and although still painful, it is welcome.
My heart has changed, my livelihood is about to as well after which I will embark on a journey into an unknown future where I will accept whatever may come in this moment.
I will turn my focus inward where things can and will change for the better for me and all those I love…. everyone.
The heat of a summer day softens and slips silently
Into evening twilight.
The shifting shadows and cooling breezes of evening chill my being and
Bring an acute awareness of sorrow and emptiness to my state of mind.
This subtle, soft twilight is lonely and empty now
But was beautiful at other times and under other circumstances in my life.
Twilight holds tenderness and acceptance of love in times of loving but
When love is missing or withheld, twilight is punishing in its loneliness.
A solitary stroll through the garden is a waste;
There is no joy in relaxing in the rocking hammock alone.
Light sadly leaves the landscape and drains the world of color
Just as this lost love drains my soul and heart of color.
The trees along the edge of the clearing blend into a fortress wall,
Locking me out in my loneliness.
Fireflies blink on and off but evade my eyes behind the fortress of trees
and the stark cold moon light accentuates my solitude by throwing only one shadow behind me.
In better times, when I was not alone, the deepiening twilight was a magical time,
Full of love and acceptance.
We walked the garden paths together, basking in the glow of the moon
And soaking in the softness of star-shine.
Our shadows moved willingly behind us, hand in hand,
And fireflies lit our way home.
I want to go back to that time, back to being a valuable part of two,
Back to the times of softened days that faded into loving nights of passion and acceptance.
I need you take me back there, please…
I’m lying in a hammock,
Sideways,
Staring at the canopy of trees above my head.
Their branches interlaced like the fingers of lovers in an act of passion.
They sway with the gentle breeze,
Each variety with its distinct leaf waiving and dancing to its own tune.
Above and beyond the boughs lies a deep blue sky, dotted with plumes of soft whiteness
Each drifting and changing with every second, never the same from moment to moment.
I watch this scene as the sunlight slowly turns to dusk.
The sun-powered breezes fade and the forest yawns and folds in on itself and sleeps.
I should do the same
But the magic of the transformation of day into night fixes me to this spot.
All form is erased, sky and forest become one, stars twinkle above and fireflies twinkle below as reflections of one another like sky in water.
Buzzing insects sounds are silenced and
A different cast of characters takes over the night shift.
An owl awakens and his hooting echoes between the sleeping trees,
Others answer in kind.
I hear the fox’s footsteps through the dry leaves and
Goosebumps cover my neck at the sound of his bark.
Less vocal creatures slink and stalk through the forest night
Taking their turn at life.
And me, I don’t fit into either cast,
I exist equally in both worlds but am not a participant in either and
Therein lays my sorrow.
I am only a watcher and always alone.
Its passageway’s are dark and deep
The city sleeps.
Traffic stops in the late night hours
Leaving the tunnels and passageways empty and echoing.
The statues that adorn the bridges and street corners stand in silence,
Their presence as forgotten as the craftsman who carved them.
Does anyone ever see them?
Does anyone ever care?
Buildings sit inches away from each other,
Built to use every bit of space,
None is wasted
None is.
They build closer and closer
Taller and taller until the sky is blocked out leaving no reminders of what is real.
The bus I ride from the airport to South Station navigates the empty streets, turning and sliding past the emotionless statues, the empty tunnels,
Past the tunnel doors that lead to nowhere and follows the
Streets and turns made just wide enough to fit through, does someone actually plan these places?
Or do they grow by themselves, out of each other
In layers and layers of cement and iron bars.
I feel the need to be silent in the dark empty city night.
The bus interior is dark except for my reading light
A tiny light illuminating
Just what is below it – me and my pen and paper.
Am I the only one who is really here
The only on paying attention …
All else fades to darkness in the back of the bus
The end of the tunnel, the dark and abandoned South Station.
It is an odd sensation thinking of the millions who lay sleeping all around me. As wildlife sleep at night, hidden out of sight in the forest.
The city draws the millions to it, holds them here, caught in the rush and sorrow of a life of illusion, but too busy to notice.
It is only in the dark of early morning that
The beauty and truth of this place is revealed.
Minus the noise, crowds, exhaust fumes and indifference,
The city glows with a knowing internal presence.
I feel its sadness like the bridge and
Street corner statues feel it.
They and I recognize each other as the neglected and forgotten ones.
Only alive when noticed but only noticed by each other
And only when the city sleeps.
MC 5-20-16
“I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah”
Leonard Cohen
The sound of rain takes me to a place of inner peace as the
Rain falls in sheets and slides down the roof over its edge in a curtain of water.
Tree leaves dance with the weight of the rain and
Flowers wash their faces in its freshness.
The sky is lower on rainy days and
Holds us close and grounded.
Sounds are muted and muffled and
Light is defused in grayness.
But it is not a sad and depressing grayness,
But a soothing and peaceful shade
Full of the necessity of sorrow.
A rainy day is soft and dark. It begs us to stop, rest and be mindful of our surrounds and loves.
It reminds us to take the time to be lulled by the patter of rain on the windows
Into a place of inner stillness,
And there remain, content to just be and accept what is.
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