Categories
Life

Enough

I am only me.

I am only here in this small body, with this small, helpless voice calling out.

I reach out to hold them in pain, while others seek to tear them down.

What are we doing, in the name of the law?

What is the law?

What is punishment at the highest level?

Isn’t it the feelings of heartache, guilt, shame, loss, that arise as the natural consequences of our mistakes? Do we need to drive the pain and the self-hatred into them more by casting them out and throwing away the key?

My heart breaks for those who have lost their way, who have committed an accidental crime for which they must pay a heavy price.

Why can we not hold them deeper?

Why can we not see their pain and feel it so deeply in our bones that rehabilitation is our only wish for them?

I could roar with this anger within.

It is why I wrote the post I deleted last night.

A man who’d been jailed for causing an accident that killed a child. He was a fool. He made an impulsive mistake, driven by ego.

And now the law stands, throwing stones at him until his soul is dead.

His soul is already broken beyond measure.

The child he accidentally killed was his Son.

How can they not see that this man could be their own Son?

How can they not see that we should be holding him through this tragic, tragic day?

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Categories
Poetry

Rainbow

In my softness I hold this gift, for you.

A small slice of home,

and a tiny sun to shine

only on you, sweet friend.

This rain will pass,

it will pass on through the air.

And in your eyes I will find

the joy

lingering,

calling from the horizon of you.

And in my eyes, the shine of knowing.

Knowing that rain built the very rainbow

that now shields you, for life.

Knowing you always were okay.

Every moment.

Safe.

Loved.

And on your way.

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Categories
Poetry

Open. Release.

But did they give you a box of darkness?

Or was the darkness

already inside of you.

Waiting for someone to press:

open.

And release.

Categories
Poetry

A Silver Breath

I have craved your whispering goodness.

I have known your shadows deep.

And here we sing

to a tender memory

of scattered and tumbling

diamond dust.

A silver breath

of life

incomplete.

starry sky over mountains
Photo by Cliford Mervil on Pexels.com

 

 

Categories
Poetry

This Place of Quiet

I am here in the quiet, knowing I am home.

I am the same, in this place, as the windy trees

and the sunset that melts across the bay.

This quiet.

It is the porcelain wail of a newborn child, it is the aching

of a freshly broken heart.

I know it well.

I know this place of quiet so well.

elderly man sitting on bench in park during autumn day
Photo by Elizaveta Kozorezova on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Poetry

Sleepy Heart

Sleepy heart,

whisper to me

of laughter and love;

comfort trickling down

the mountain of mysterious

life.

Shall I bring the sunrise?

Shall I wipe away these tears

with the sweet knowing

of tomorrows smile?

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 12. Darling Days

The echo of two hearts

drifting down the hall,

and all the darling days

we skipped arm in arm,

like children;

no more.

All the beauty of our yesterday,

I remember you.

Fondly,

I remember the darling days,

and I smile

as I crack down the middle

again.

Another fork in the road.

Another road of destiny

to travel.

Without you.

man in black long sleeved shirt and woman in black dress
Photo by Jasmine Wallace Carter on Pexels.com

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Categories
Life

Hiding

There must have been a fire like this before.

The last fire…

she couldn’t remember it,

couldn’t remember a burn

on each and every side before.

Then again

she had a habit of forgetting the fire

like all the other humans did.

Of hiding it under rocks

and mud

and other things.

Like boyfriends,

then husbands,

then wine.

Hiding the flames worked for a while.

Hiding the flames had always worked.

For a while.