set aflame ~

Tags

age, endearing, gathering, grace, home, life, love, memory, moments, promise, time, truth, where I am whole, wisdom

in time
the past will blur
and I will dream no more
of empty fields
whispers set aflame
I will gather then
unto me
moments without place
touch I swore to bear
beyond the grave

. . .

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in everything I love ~

Tags

grief, home, knowing, life, love, memory, sometimes, time, traces, truth, wisdom

does it worry you the same
when darkness calls my name
do you lie awake
to wonder where I am
time wears against the soul
as storms around us roll
the dream endures
uncertain
where to go

though it’s been a while
it seems ten thousand miles
I feel your touch
in everything I love
when a breath of morning dew
returns my thoughts
to you
twilight fades
and I am pulled to home

. . .

one more only time ~

Tags

darkness, endurance, faith, home, journey, lessons, light, love, prophecy, the path, truth, understanding, wisdom

beyond this day
of forgotten wills
night to darkness cleaves
a canopy of stars
where all
will shine

watching long
the narrow path –
searching familiar skies
grieving still
for one more
only time

how many now
the roads behind –
as promise laid before
a velvet stretch of moss
beneath our toes

the fading sun
reminding us
of all we’ve left to leave
before in some –
another time
we know

. . .

beyond the clear ~

Tags

breath, glory, light, living, love, nature, space, truth, wisdom

pages turn
as truth pursued
words to dance
beyond the clear
where once I soared ~
where nothing mattered
was everything
all but mine
reason chides
an ancient passion
of sweet perfume
and loyal
pines

. . .

light undone ~

Tags

evolution, life, love, nature, spirit, time, wisdom

in the still
where once the spirits played ~
softer my becoming
a bed beneath
the aging evergreens
memories
of mornings there
whispered into verse
a line or so
threatened not by word
light undone as yearning spread
beyond the reach
of time
somewhere I am told
they speak of mine

. . .

why am I here ~

Tags

beauty, gain, grace, knowing, life, loss, love, path of understanding, sacred divine, scars, sharing, truth, wisdom

As of late, I’ve thought of how much I wanted to share a story, but then the same thing happened – time (or rather a lack of it) got between me and the page.

But yesterday, something happened that moved me to make the time. As I was entering the parking garage near my office after work, I heard something – a low moan. It was so sad, and in retrospect, I should have known what it was before I got there. A month or so back, a lady I work with lost her husband, quite tragically. Since then, I’ve talked with her a number of times and provided books, a full body hug, and assurance that we don’t grieve what we don’t love, yet surely love is worth the price.

She was sitting in her car with the window down and, quite literally, howling. I’m certain a number of people had come that way and been immobilized by the sight of such anguish.

It would have been easy for me to do the same. She hadn’t seen me and traffic lately has been horrendous. She would have understood. I, on the other hand, might not have. I would have reflected long after I began my drive home, on what I could have done differently.

Why am I here?

It’s such an easy question, but rarely is it easily answered. However, more and more, I find that simply posing the question can lead me to choices with little room for regret.

Regardless our place of arriving, there are truths, actions and consequences that directed our path. What I’ve come to understand that even false actions, half-truths and unexpected consequences can bring us to a place of healing, gratitude, and wisdom. Perhaps it’s a fool who believes all things happen for a reason, but I don’t mind saying that some of my greatest lessons were the result of bad decisions. In many a darkness, I have realized the light I held within – that couldn’t be lost. What I view as my real beauty are my scars, the places made stronger by the breaking.

And it is those same things that allow me the willingness to move out of the ‘receiving line’ and into the ‘giving line’. In that line, I’ve come to understand that receiving is most abundant to those unafraid to give. The measure of what I’ve lost to what I’ve gained is unparalleled. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love more, another day comes – and I do.

Why am I here?

I’m here to make the world a little better. Even in my brokenness, I can do that. I can listen with something other than my ears and feel with something other than my checkbook. I can fill a night up with gratefulness for a moment offered only to me.

The garage was growing dark as I held her, allowing her to cry into me, the sound somehow made less by the sharing. She looked at me, smiled as tears flowed, and asked, ‘why are you here?’

‘I’m here for you. Tell me a story.’

for days before
I found you here
years without your name
to warm my lips
a prayer I couldn’t raise
was mine to speak
of pain I knew
was never mine to keep
a darker night
where once I passed
miles before you came

. . .

couldn’t sing ~

Tags

grace, light, love, mystery, questions, realization, reflection, seeing in the dark, truth, understanding, wisdom

was awakened
by a dream
(pieces falling into place)
a promise
given clarity
as evermore to grace

from birth
a quest for wisdom
came questions still to ask
such pleasure
with the seeking
each mystery surpassed

and tho the house
was empty
but for birds
along the wall
they couldn’t sing
(they wouldn’t sing)
were frightened by it all

so taken by insanity
at last I knew the rest
what pages had been missing
returned as consequence
when someone chose for others
what each should choose alone
would take you there
if mine to do
would gladly bare you home

I couldn’t sleep
the hours passed
as shadows rearranged
what longing knew
his away around
(truth I wouldn’t change)
always here
I see that now
I’d looked for
somewhere else
was sleeping on my pillow
searching for myself

was always here
(I wonder)
of moments
now recalled
did I share this fate
with breakfast
what nightbird strained
to call
who watched me
from a distance
storied arms
too weak to fight
taken down
forsaken paths
in shadows of the night

approaching dawn
was tennessee
out beyond my fears
papered birds now gather
these sacred psalms
to hear

. . .

bittersweet ~

Tags

destiny, life, love, mystery, roads, stars, story, time, truth, wandering, wisdom

bittersweet
a lovely word
speaks to ways I’ve known
a path or two
grown heavy to the briar
biscuits sometimes
much too hard
jelly to the jar
places I was going
faded now

not much left
for writing –
too much truth to tell
years
where silver grey
the earth grows hard
when for a while
I walk beneath
stars to shine
the same
as once I knew them
every one

bittersweet
they burn

. . .

no ordinary feeling ~

Tags

becoming, grace, light, love, old maps, passion, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom

before the night
is scattered
by the first embrace of dawn
for moments then
I float in half awake
with thought to more
than earthly care
visions passed between
– nothing
I’m prepared
to give away

(if evermore)
a moment come
and always at my will
no ordinary feeling
wraps me sweet
within the still

embraced by this
surrender
more than breath –
or hands to hold
love that has no measure
brings a solace
to my soul

sun that begs
these buds to tremble
my sleepy eyes to sight
awakened by a
promise –
writ in messages
of light

lest I wander
past the leaving
and will my spirit
home –
to the heart
that keeps my pillow –
the kiss that is
my own

. . .

no different for the dying ~

Tags

age, home another way, knowing, life, love, north, seeing in the dark, spirit, time, truth, wisdom

cooler now
the eastern wind
has come to blow me home –
with memory of forever
I was born

returning
as the falling snow
sticking to the branches –
winter white remembered me
from where I laid to rest

another time –
a sweeter soul
no different for the dying
let me sleep
and seal these words within

the place I was
committed as a softer glow
of setting –
dream me there
of circumstance
and bring my winds
to sing

. . .