In search of my mother's garden, I found my own. ~Alice Walker
Time burns her memory like a building
on flame and my heart keeps re-entering to salvage what could be lost soft
cuddles pushes on the swing thoughts shared all return to view I cradle them
out of the wreckage with the tenderness of a mother yet fervor of an
explorer certain I will retrieve something new that had been once consumed by
time's tarnishing way
one vision at a time relinquished
like a photograph taken out from underneath the protective glass yet they
still fade tattered at the edges and dust in between reflecting the
weakness of my memory to capture every moment like a camera but I will carry on
with the recovery holding on to each one like a child's hand afraid of losing
them out in the open streets for I am the guardian and sole heir of them all
and I will carry them with me in homage.
I turned 47 this year; the age my
Mother was when she passed away. I never realized at that time how young
she truly was. She never saw us kids grow up, attended our graduations,
had the pleasure of participating in our weddings, or held her grandchildren in
her arms. Now I am very aware of the blessings that I have to see my
grown children, and have the opportunity to watch my grandchildren grow
up. When I look at myself in the mirror I do not see the many wrinkles,
or all the grey hairs, that seem to accumulate like dust on a picture frame. I see the reflection of my mother's smile, and
her heart that lives on in my life.
Life is life, and death is life, and everything in between. ~Terri Guillemets
Its all about the shades in between. Nothing is completely black and white. We draw the lines in black and the areas around are white but there is always shades of grey that connect the two and in the world of sketching where one tries to portray what they see, it is all about knowing what not to fill in and what to accentuate.
Then there are the tools that help us do this. The pencils of life that fill the page, and the erasers that help when there is a mistake. One line connecting to the next in form to complete a picture for all to see. So how we depict the artistry and what the world ends up seeing is ultimately at the end of our own pencils edge. Hold it how you will. Linking with Imaginary Gardens "Tuesday Platform".
Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask.
Sometimes there are things we go through in this life that roar like monsters, but in our struggle through the abyss of day to day living they seem to whisper like a shy child. We become blinded and unaware of the battle within our hands. So we keep stumbling forward unaware of the danger of complacency that lurks around every corner of our lives.
It has been a while now, but I had a dream one night that I felt spoke to me loud and clear about boundaries and responsibilities. I cannot recall all the details of the dream now, since I have waited so long to document it, but the gut of the meaning behind it is still fresh like a wound that needs tending. So I will do my best to reveal it here.
As you may be expecting there were zombies in my dream. Like I have said before, my dreams have many times been stressful if not borderline nightmares, and this one was no different. I regret now, that I have waited so long to re-tell the dream, because my memory of it has faded greatly, but I do remember the message I got from it.
I was dealing with zombies all around. I don't recall the actual plot of what was going on, except there was blood, gore, stress and chaos at every corner. I was trying to handle the situation. Taking care of what was right before me, and then it happened; a zombie spoke to me.
A zombie's head was completely off and on the ground. Yes, I know, kill the brain= kill the zombie, but this is a dream not "zombies 101". Anyway something in the dream told me to pick up the head. I wanted to resist, but my pride would not let me. I had to prove I was brave enough to do it, but as I reached down to pick it up a voice spoke and urgently said, "DON'T that's NOT your head. I CAN pick up my own, you can pick up YOURS!" That is where I woke up.
I realized that I have been futilely trying to pick up the zombie heads in my life. (All the troubles of those around me that I am not able to fix.) I could no more replace their heads than buy a Mercedes Benz or solve world peace, but somehow I keep trying anyway. It is like the bible verse in Matthew 7:5, "Though hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye."
I suppose there are all kinds of ways we get messages in life. People around us, the bible, situations that we face, and zombies in our dreams. The only trick is, we have to be willing to truly listen.
Also linking with Poetry Jam for the prompt "Silence".
Silence is a text easy to misread. ~A.A. Attanasio
Ignorance is a dark hall that seems to have no doors.
Where wisdom has no voice that fools can soon ignore.
And truth can be a luxury when it is nowhere to be found
as secrets can deceive like lies when they do abound.
For the truth holds a certain power like a shelter in the rain
and when it is abandoned it leaves one vulnerable to more pain.
When I was around 4 years old we had a gold fish that lived in a bowl on top of our console television. One day I was left in the house alone while the family was doing some yard work. I got the wonderful idea to feed the fish. Everyone else was doing something productive and I wanted to do something to. So I decided to get the little shaker bottle of fish food and make myself useful. Once I started pouring it seemed that more would be better than less, after all, it was probably very hungry. The rest of the story speaks for itself. You know the outcome. Too much dinner for fish is a certain death indeed. A few hours later I heard the sad gasp of my mother as she discovered the fish floating on the top of the water. At the time I did not realize what I had actually done. It was not until I was older that I put two and two together. You see, ignorance is not always kind. At least not for the poor gold fish in a fish bowl. Not knowing what I had done, was less painful for me at 4 years old, but if someone had shown me how to feed them and why, maybe little Goldie would have lived a longer life. The echo of silence tends to be a sad sound indeed.
Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold. ~Leo Tolstoy
Any man can tell the story of what he has learned upon his way and those around him will listen, but it is the account shared by the one that has emerged from the grips of the agony of life's hardest obstacles, faced their demons eye to eye and risen from the depths of deep despair that have a voice that reaches more than just ears. They speak through the creaking of steps taken on the hardest of floors. It is that sound that our soul hears, and then hearkening begins. It is the echo of sound that reoccurs from this that proves to me the miracles that are born from adversity. For it seems that it is the evidence of recovery that comes from true redemption that reveals the greatest miracles of all.
Reason is our soul’s left hand, Faith her right. ~John Donne
Faith is a white horse that must run in the black of night
and the soul is the rider that must hold on with no reins in sight.
It is a treacherous journey that requires a lot of guts.
The kind that walks through land mines with eyes completely shut.
So let go of your logistics and reach out for something true.
A credence that is mightier than any scientific proof.
For genuine conviction is a force that moves through hardy walls
and the voice that drives it onward has an ever gentle call.
You see the cement of the soul is full of both tenderness and might.
For faith is a true force yet enigma like butterflies and land mines.
At the bottom is always the best soil to sow and grow something new again.
In that sense, hitting (rock) bottom, while extremely painful, is also the perfect sowing ground.
That being said, before we can begin to grow, we must first realize that we are bogged down. (Step 1)
My arms have grown weary and my back is all worn.
My insides are crumbling and my outside is torn.
Life is a journey that requires some might
and rest becomes a luxury instead of a right.
So now I am in need of major repair.
God's needle and thread with love, hope, and care.
This was originally written for Poetry Jam for the "One Word" prompt.
My word is: Recover
Unfortunately I did not make it in time, so I am sharing it with Poet's United's Poetry Pantry #236
Being the mother of a recovering addict alcoholic has made the last few years of my life rough in more ways than just a worn out arm chair.. I am blessed to be able to say that his ultimate rock bottom was 6 months ago, and the journey since then has been the beginning of rehabilitation for a road full of wreckage that once seemed beyond repair. It is hard to have to admit, but my own dysfunction inhibited his recovery for a very long time. My need to smooth the gravel path prolonged his stay on a road of destruction, and that is a sad truth that I must never forget. The fact of the matter is, recovery is not just for alcoholics and addicts, it is for anyone who has been born upon this earth. If you have lived then you have felt something and been touched by the wares of life. It is impossible to feel and not at some point get hurt in some way, and if you have been hurt, then you are in need of recovery.
Like a worn out chair that has been sat on again and again, we all eventually need some mending. Fortunately there are many avenues of help out there. Many churches and support centers have groups that meet and provide a great help to those who are ready and willing for a change. There is "Celebrate Recovery" a Christ based approach to recovery that was a response to twelve step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous. "Overcomers Outreach" is another great support group founded on the twelve steps and the scriptures as well. No matter what place you might find yourself in this life, there is help and support out there. You just have to want it bad enough to have the courage to reach out for true help and start mending your life.
"Let your hopes, not your hurts shape your future."