Moving Through the Sadness

A dream swallows me
images with no meaning
but the sense of being trapped
in a home that is not my own
without any dreams to move me forward . . .A rainy day

into tomorrow. I pull myself awake
yearning to remain in
the oblivion of sleep
but terrified by the images that
haunt me . . .

into my waking hours.
I blink awake
and hug my daughter
in desperation and love
looking for answers she does not have.
She doesn’t even understand the questions . . .

I write in my Morning Pages
filled with words I’ll never share
some of hope
some of fear
some of the sadness I carry with me . . .

out into the living room
to be greeted by a flowerDad's flower.
that represents Dad
the man I miss
the man I mourn
the man who was . . .

the man who I never really knew.
I wonder what my daughter knows of me.
What mark will I leave behind
for future generations unknown?
Will my life pass as a blink
with nothing to show but the memories . . .

found in a flower?
I move through the day,
searching through the hope
and find a dream
written by two idiots
that reminds me that all that  really matters . . .

is the journey, not the destination.

Moving Toward Possibility

 

 

At 4am

At 4 am
Darkness is
inevitable.

Not the literal darkness
of a world at rest–
for that is hard to find
as the lights of technology
bleed through
a constant reminder
of human vs. world.

This is the darkness
that leaks out of nightmare
where painful reality
joins forces
with the creatures who hide inside
gnawing at sensitive spots
until your mind screams wake up
or stay in a land filled with
creeping mists
oozing their chill
across the floor
while doomed faces
threaten you
with the failures
of your own mind
and the reality of a world
which prides greed and cruelty
over community
We all pay the price
When we wake into
the inevitable darkness of doubt.

I Can’t Imagine

Candle

Candle (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I can’t imagine . . .
the pain they are feeling now
as infinite tears pour down my face
and I rush home to hug my child.

I’m lucky I can.

I can’t imagine . . .
what could induce someone
to destroy so many lives
with such destructive force.

I’ll never understand.

I can’t imagine . . .
why people don’t see
that violence begets violence
and leaves nothing but pain.

I’ve lost all hope.

I can’t imagine . . .
how we can fix this
as long as people cling to
their right to defend themselves.

Who is the enemy?

Today I mourn
not just for young lives
snuffed before they really lived
but for all humanity,
all who believe that war
and murder and violence
are not the answer.

We’ve lost our way

I can’t imagine . . .
how we’ll ever find it.

In Defense of Gray (100 WCGU)

Gray is such a dismal word
but why must it be so?
It makes pink pop
Red and orange too
It even heralds snow.

It’s neutral
It’s not black or white
It doesn’t judge or take a stance
Some say it helps stabilize
And make vibrant colors dance.

Native Americans, some people say
associate gray with friends
It symbolizes security
Maturity
Upon gray you can depend.

But still gray skies indicate
days of doom and gloom
Unless you choose to take that day
as an opportunity
a chance to read a book, drink some tea,
and snuggle in your room.

 

This is my entry in Julia’s 100 Word Challenge for Grown-ups this week, with the prompt “Grey” (or gray, which is the correct spelling?). For an old look at Gray in my life visit a poem of mine from a while back called “A Gray Day”

 

A Healing Brew (100WCGU)

Today Julia gave the 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups with a little reluctance, but asked us to ” create a recipe of a dish fit for a witch.” I chose to take a slightly different approach, since I: a) prefer the image of witch as related to Wicca  and b) am very concerned about my father who has Alzheimer’s and just went into the hospital today. I decided to use the concept of healing herbs for my “recipe” and found this website as a reference. Julia, I hope you understand. Please visit the challenge for other entries.

Gather thee, sisters three
to use the power of magic that heals

A dash of rosemary
a sprinkle of dill
combat many different ills.

Oregano to disinfect
Cayenne to relieve pain.

Cilantro washes toxins out
Mint to calm digestive strain.

Curry powder
fights evil disease that strips away dignity.

Parsley protects our bodies plumbing
to improve health for one more day.

Sprinkle basil for additional aid
add a pinch of ginger to keep sickness away.

Stir it into a special brew
Mixed with words of prayer and love

Add the mixture to any meal

Let those who suffer
Blessed be!

 

 

An Ending Season (100 Word Challenge)

This weeks challenge at Julia’s place made me wax a little poetic and melancholy.

What if this was your last year to live?
Will the days speed by even faster?
Will you feel each moment as a special gift?
Will you yearn more for the past?

Will you see each day with brand new eyes?
Spring might seem fresh and daring
a rush of melting-water sighs
a saucy breeze filled with birds who sing.

Summer heat will melt away
concerns about the future
each lazy water-and-flower filled day
making every moment richer.

The flaming fall of crisp red leaves
will warm the fading senses
filled with love one cannot see . . .

And the winter will bring silence

Nothing is Impossible (100WCGU)

This image is Julia’s prompt for the 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups this week. Be sure to visit her, and other posts. Maybe you would like to join in the fun?

One’s soul can be found
in far-reaching heights
where the silence of the wind
drowns out
the dream-crushing cry
of “Impossible!”

In loneliness
so sublime it sings
one achieves perfect
perception of what is . . .
indeed . . .
possible.

One step towards
the unknown
brings us one breath closer
to a world
where dreams exist
and everything is possible.

Fear of haphazard gusts
or the fragility
of standing near the edge
doesn’t stop the
reality
of achieving
the impossible.

Each agonized step
forces unused muscles to dream
and ignore
faceless voices that say
“You can’t!”
“You won’t!”
“No!”
The end reveals true
possibility

Rainy Day Blues

Since it is raining today, and I am still suffering from SBD as well as feeling completely uninspired, I thought I would recycle and old post that many have probably never read.  Enjoy!

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON NOVEMBER 10, 2011

Warning, it is completely possible that I have lost my mind. And now for your entertainment a ridiculous song that sings the blues. Join me by adding “Ba da da da”, at appropriate points in your head.

Well I woke up this mornin’
with a plan in my head
of going for a walk and gettin’ out of my bed.

I got those fat butt,
got those fat butt blues.

But the rain started falling, and  the sky turned all gray
making me want to snuggle up in bed all day.

I got those rainy,
got those rainy day blues.

But I gave myself a lecture, and got out of bed
turned on the computer and got words in my head.

I got those reading
too many blog reading blues.

I wrote some new words down, and I read some words too
I began to research, hoping ideas would come through.

I got those writing,
what to write about  blues.

Then I got an e-mail, that nearly put me to bed
it said that my content wasn’t  all from my head.

I got those plagiarism
got those plagiarism blues.

But what they don’t get now, what they don’t see
is that I intentionally quoted from a man I’d  like to meet

I got those dumb-ass,
dumb-ass reader  blues.

So now my poem, goes back to the vault
and I write this dribble, it’s nobody’s fault.

I got those silly
silly rainy day blues.

We will continue with regularly scheduled sane posts as soon as my head re-attaches. 

Yesterday I Began a Journey (100 WCGU)

This weeks 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups asks us to include …. the line was drawn ….. I have combined that with a little personal journey that I am on, as well as a foray into poetry (as I sometimes do). For those of you only interested in the quick read I offer the poem/challenge first, but am following it up with an explanation for anyone who wants to know more.

Yesterday I Began a Journey

Yesterday I began a journey
where the line was drawn between
who I am and who I want to be.

 My butterfly soul
danced a dance of new beginnings
around the strength found in the turtle and the moon

Lessons from people connected to the earth
tightened the bond between
mother and daughter
butterfly and turtle
creativity and hope.

Yesterday I began a journey
which will involve the beating 
of my heart drum
and the sound of thunder
dancing over the waves.

Yesterday I began a journey
with laughter, adventure, love and joy.
Today, the journey continues in words.

Yesterday I began a journey.

 

 The Explanation

Yesterday Sarah and I went on a spontaneous Girls’ Day adventure with my new friend (and I believe spiritual mentor)  Terry to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Sioux Falls During a Hot Dry Summer

Part of the adventure involved Sarah’s experiencing her first pedicure after watching me get one. It was a silly, fun, mother/daughter bonding experience.

Sarah tried to resist the giggles as her feet got tickled and massaged.

But it was almost impossible to stop laughing.

Especially when your toes are being painted purple while you wear silly shoes.

Lovely mother and daughter feet.

After our feet were fabulous, we went to downtown Sioux Falls to eat lunch. We ended up at Chedd’s, a place for gourmet grilled cheese. Then (once we were able to put real shoes back on) we wandered through some of the fabulous stores on Phillips Street. The first place we wandered into was The Prairie Star Gallery, which has the most beautiful, spiritual and amazing collections of indigenous art I’ve ever seen. The owner shared stories with us of her journey as well as the meaning behind some artifacts. I played and heard the song of a drum so deep and beautiful it still resonates in chest.  She told us about the legends of turtles, who represent (in some traditions) women and birth and the moon . Every turtle shell has 13 sections, which represent the 13 moons of the year. Along the edge of their shell are 28 segments, the time between each moon. Women would use turtle shells to keep track of their menstrual cycles.

I ended up buying a gorgeous children’s book because of the draw of this legend.

I’ve linked the image to the Amazon book description.

As I was thinking about turtles, and the journey, and indigenous legends and everything else, I kept pondering my recent butterfly revelations. I did a little web research and found this lovely legend:

An Indian Butterfly Legend

If anyone desires a wish to come true they must
capture a butterfly and whisper that wish to it.

Since they make no sound, they can’t tell the wish
to anyone but the Great Spirit.

So by making the wish and releasing the butterfly
it will be taken to the heavens and be granted.

Author Unknown

All of these images and ideas are merging together into possibilities for me. Right now my mind is dancing with possibilities like:

  • an art project which will join these powerful images
  • a theatre production that shares some legends, all surrounding the shell of a turtle
  • perhaps a puppet play
  •  . . .

So you see, yesterday I really began a journey into possibility, spirituality and hope.

Today We Mourn

Another tragedy brought on
by a world that has lost its way
clinging to outdated freedoms
like the right to buy and own
weapons that kill.

What about the right to live in peace?
Without fear of being struck down
senselessly
in the middle of an innocent outing
to watch the movies.

Some say guns protect us
and weapons secure us.
I say the only protection
lies within ourselves
within our power to think and recognize
that peace begins only
when we put our weapons down.

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