a season saved for mary ~

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professing love for me_edited

what of words
one blessing fails –
a choir can hardly sing
to tell of grace
in all I’ve known –
a loving solstice
brings

as voices blend
in whispering –
the ransom of my will
to a season saved for mary
candles reaching –
higher still

red and virgin
blossoms bleed
beneath an old and crooked tree
verses of ten thousand psalms
– professing love
for me

I wonder
though not so often
how sweetly the path was grown
another way
from all I dreamed –
returns my soul
to home

. . .

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beneath the frost ~

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beneath the frost

were that I some mistletoe
strung above your bed
a cup of bitter coffee
(long forgot)
survivors of another
time I thought to leave
you begged me wait (the winter)
warmth beneath the frost
I cannot speak
for vows betrayed –
what is (what isn’t) true
how many lifetimes
might I brave –
for one more breath
(of you)

. . .

still ~

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day begins at night

Over the last week, I have the experienced the blessing of speaking with two individuals I dearly love about Christmas and also about loss.

I know they are not the only ones who find it difficult to enjoy Christmas due to the weight that is surely heartache.  And while both of these beautiful souls have suffered loss I have not, in other ways I cannot speak clearly of, I lost the same as they, for loss is something we all know. Unfortunately (or fortunately), grief is not a one size fits all thing. It is unique to each of us and the loss is unique to each of us. How we carry it and how it carries us is only ever ours.

For all I know about loss and grief, I know much more about love. I know that love never leaves us, never empties us, and never disappoints us. I’m sure you’re already thinking I don’t know much. But I stick to my belief. Love doesn’t disappoint or leave us, but that doesn’t mean that people don’t/won’t. Love doesn’t fail; people fail. And sometimes in the midst of our grieving or mourning a loss or rejection, we push the thought of love away because to linger with it is too painful, too much of a reminder of our own failures.

But eventually, it is that very love and those very thoughts that heal us, that strengthen us. We may abandon love, but it never abandons us. That which is true doesn’t somehow become less true because we deny it.

I work with a company that handles health insurance and benefits. More than once, I’ve heard from a member who is distraught because data was stored and visible on an ‘ex’. Each time (every time), I laugh to myself at the thought that any of us could ever totally remove someone from the place they held in our hearts, memories, life. It is impossible, as well it should be. I’ve often shared this quote – “The problem with having everything you ever wanted is having everything you once wanted.”

If I ever loved you, I love you still. If I can un-love, then surely I never did.

Love remains whether we want it to or not. It becomes a part of us, changing the ways we navigate life and future relationships. It may evolve or change, but if we allow it to, it becomes the best of who we are and what we know to be true when everything else fails. It becomes the fragile vase we could never put back on the shelf.

So, while Christmas may prove hard for some, take comfort in knowing that another day will come when the memories that torture us will bring us unimaginable joy. We will laugh again! We absolutely will!

This season – this gift – is a time for remembering (even when it hurts) and holding on to that which makes life worth living. We cannot lose it, and it can never lose us.

Let us love and love some more!

. . .

of the me in the mirror ~

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follow your soul

time has erased the
girl in the mirror –
a clarified version
of someone I knew
stares from the corners
leans to the shutter
breaks in the passing
and smiles as I do

at stories forgotten
retold from the ending
tracing old patterns
nobody cares
how we became
for what were we searching –
a touch this familiar
waiting love –
waiting there

miles down the mountain
living aside –
essence remains of
some sweet other time
a faded reminder
of me in the mirror
but for passions
we shared –
love
would be mine

. . .

beyond the place remembered ~

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venus

embers of a faithful star
blow across the night
to fan the spark –
of another warm embrace
eyes reflect the knowing
of where we yet begin –
blessings here
I wished for
yesterday

of loss
I bear no sorrow –
no hurtful memory
love remains a treasure
mine to keep
beyond the place
remembered –
a door is opened wide
night birds call –
to another dream
I sleep

within the hope
of evermore –
is every plan I made –
a life beyond this living
undenied
a name I wear against my heart –
stories wait to tell –
of want beyond this wishing
a star prepared
to fly

. . .

author’s note – now and then, I awake in sweat,
breath catching as I wonder why
in the darkness –
words find me –
loosed without prejudice or fear

sometimes they fit together, but others, they do not
last night one of those
and these, the telling

. . .

best ever ~

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Just this week, a friend told me of the start of a new tradition within her family wherein each member shared their best Christmas memory. Even in recounting the experience, tears filled her eyes as she spoke of her own, and those shared by others. There were moments of sorrow and others sweeterstillof pure joy, but eventually, they all became the best memory ever.

How is it that we’ve forgotten that? To know that every sorrow wears a coat of joy, and every bliss is but a warning of grief – a missing of the sweetest part? And yet, when measured into the same overflowing cup, they become the best – again and again.

She asked to my best memory ever and I think (partially) it was dislodged from my heart by her telling, but it is one of joy and family……….the best ever still.

Tho we didn’t know it at the time, we weren’t rich. My family of six lived in a two bedroom trailer until I was twelve. Then we moved into a castle of three bedrooms….. 🙂 The memory recalled is from the ‘castle’. Every Saturday was the same. One by one, my brother and sisters would wake for some reason and make our way to my parent’s room, my parent’s bed. Until we were all there, telling our dreams, torturing and tickling, and eventually deciding on breakfast.

But Christmas was another such time. My brother (who by virtue of the fact that he was the only son, had his own bedroom) would sleep in the girl’s room. We’d all pile into one big bed (or it seemed big at the time – tho I suspect it was no more than a full-size). I’m not sure we slept at all, but during the night, with every little squeak or bending of board, we’d speculate that Santa had come around. My brother was the designated outlook for us, and he would sneak down the hall to spy on the living room………and then run back to the safety of us to report. There was no understanding that it had to be five o’clock before we could get up. The only restriction was that we couldn’t get up before Santa had arrived.

closerYears later, I have heard stories of how long it took to get all the presents under the tree*. Between wrapping, assembling, and playing with all the toys – it was their joy we were most anticipating I think. Even now, at Christmas, I imagine the sound of little boy feet running down the hall…….. ‘he’s here, he’s here’………..

Let us keep Christmas forever in our tiny hearts, remembering things little as big. Let us keep love through the sharing of stories – creating anew every best memory.

* My Chatty Cathy doll was almost worn out before Christmas, and a promise to get a kitten for my sister resulted in an unexpected run to the country – and a cat that nearly brought my dad to stitches.  In the telling, even more sweet beautiful tears.  My dad comments, ‘we didn’t know just how good we had it’….  Then he winks, ‘yeah, we knew’……..

wake me home
some other year –
beyond this life surrendered
fall to me the places
I have known –
save for me
a little room
with not much more
for leaving –
arms to fill
wake me now
to home

. . .

Author’s Note:  One of my favorite reposted as a reminder.

all we’ve forgotten to be ~

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SONY DSC

sleigh bells
and whispers
of Christmases past
who I was then
but a sigh barely heard
ribbons and snowfall
a sweet welcome in
moments together
a song
without words –

though time has a way
of deciding our truth
love keeps all
we’ve forgotten to be –
a place of beginning
carries us still
as a candle burns long
in the heart’s
memory

. . .

things I might have changed ~

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belonging

for another day
a lifetime rent –
for wishes undenied
one last kiss –
one verse upon my brow
too many more
than I endured
to save for any less –
the way I came
much sweeter than before

I only dreamed
to finish here –
until the dying came
until my waiting freed
one more goodbye
– will then I dare
remembrance
of things I might have changed
had winter passed
with not so harsh
a claim

. . .

sworn to trust ~

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here and still

I’m not the same
as someone said –
green is not my shade
winter white
and maple most refined
who am I to wonder
how it was
you dreamed me home
tis here I found my heart
to let it go

the road remembers
most of it –
a story without end
verses pressed into the names
of stars
sunrise wrapped in blankets
a moment sworn to trust
heaven
always knew
the way to us

. . .