November 17, 2014 § Leave a comment
Maybe he forgot something.
Maybe the road went crooked back there.
A “dog leg” that led him astray.
Out into a dark wood.
Myself, I know this path…
Turn here, the rock in the road…
An opportunity missed,
A friend left behind.
We twist and turn to the best of our ability,
And some of us wind up
In the strangest of places
Missing pieces of ourselves
And then again, gaining some…
Who’s to say what was really lost?
All we can do is grow through the cracks of the sidewalk,
Move aside the pebbles as a leaf uncurls…
There is sunshine
A dandelion would never look back.
November 16, 2014 § Leave a comment
Bless these hands that walk the long road,
For the end may not be in sight.
Bless this body that moves from one thing to the next,
For the needs are many.
These hands that do the work
This body that walks out the door in the morning,
Labors through the day,
And comes home to collapse on the couch, exhausted.
This body that wipes noses,
This body that changes the diapers,
This body that lends its ear & heart for long hours
This body that tries to meet the needs of so many others.
I asked that the nutrition in the food,
Be double of that which is apparent.
I ask that that fifteen minutes of rest,
Be the equivalent of a two hour nap.
I ask that the sustenance received
bears the equivalent of five fold.
I ask that small, invisible hands
Keep the food from burning on the stove
Make the bed just that little bit more warmer
Make the sunshine linger on the skin for just one more minute.
I ask that the song of the little birds pierces the glass of the window, to lighten this heart.
November 13, 2014 § Leave a comment
At the end of the day
I sit in my quiet house
Listening to the deer rustle through the fallen leaves
You brought only yourself
Pure and simple,
You brought only your new bright soul
You brought only your body, hoping to heal.
You let me put my hands on you
A salve to your feet each night
Rubbing against the arthritis in your wrists
Coaxing the rash from your skin.
This body has fought off cancer, twice.
Bright eyes, inquisitive, I was amazed at the way you wanted to know me.
I could only hope to move a small amount of your discomfort.
I am in awe of the mountains you have climbed…
Here is this body that carried me for nine months.
Here is the scar where they took out the womb.
Here is the scar where they replaced your knees.
Here is the scar where the fused your spine.
Here is the scar where they vaccinated you against polio, even though you had conquered it before you were even one year old.
Here is where your body chased off the virus, but not before it twisted your foot.
Here is the extra rib that grows at the top of your spine, which hurts a lot more these days.
Here are my hands, that you gave to me. And I wish that I could chase away everything that hurts.
The feeling, I imagine, that you felt so much when I was smaller…
I tell myself, I could never be as brave as you have been.
I tell myself, I would have let the cancer take me.
I tell myself, that I am more like my father.
somewhere in here, somewhere in this body, your blood is flowing.
Somewhere in here, these veins carry this strength.
You were always so formidable, it’s hard for me to imagine that I could do justice to these feet in front of me.
This body in front of me is no stranger.
This body in me is no stranger.
Perhaps there is more to me than I originally thought.
November 3, 2014 § Leave a comment
…and now may I go gently into this dark sleep.
the summer’s caress has lingered,
leaving me frantic to squeeze one last fling,
one last moment in her sunny warmth.
The leaves on the maple tree
told me that our time was coming to an end,
the geese overhead heralding her departure.
I will no longer cling.
Clad in my winter robes, I shall turn to the lit candles in the dark.
The smoke of the woodstove shall mingle with the incense of my prayers.
The cold bite on my skin will drive me
to relinquish my busy days & take me deep into the arms of my chilly lover.
Let me sleep in your embrace & dream
of the grain in the hall, the bear in it’s den,
and the life that takes its rest until the coming spring.
Let my breath and heart slow it’s tempo
to match the swaying limbs of the trees.
All that I have planted has bloomed, fruited, and returned.
I will hold the seed in my mouth as I sing my gratitude,
and dream of the new children poised above the womb.