Friday, November 30, 2012

Between Hurt and Forgiveness


"He who cannot forgive breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass."
~George Herbert




Linking with Poets United Wonder Wednesday #11 Bridge


It is a precarious cliff
 in the middle of suffering's bitter ache.
No railing to brace the fall
 nor smooth trail to truly take.
 Desolation is one's comrad,
in this place of shifting ground.
Where blame wanders on all sides
 and grace cannot be found.
There is only one path
 that leads to a true retreat.
It is the bridge of forgiveness
 that sets hurt soldiers free.








Tuesday, November 27, 2012

One Beautiful Thing


Tess's wonderful prompt site: The Mag #145

"Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid."
 ~Frederick Buechner




I used to view the world around me from a card table chair that I could fold up at any time,
when I did not want to face what stood before me.
And in that place all the debris and wreckage seemed greater than even one beautiful thing.
So my gratitude walked away empty like an abandoned room.
Real life does not have "high definition" big screen television.
The big picture can be fuzzy,
and all the details can be hard to detect.
Hope can fall down unnoticed, like a penny beneath a chair cushion,
and everything one sees can be distorted and hard to view.
For clarity can be held close and then lost like an abducted child,
leaving a soul to feel forsaken and lost in the rubble.
I know that feeling.  I have held it within my soiled hands,
and cradled it like a forlorn orphan, unable to let it go or see past the pain.
Vision is a tricky thing...what we see, and what truly lies in front of us
sometimes are simply not the same thing.
There is growth in adversity, like seeds sent astray in a harsh wind,
greenery will sprout all around in time, but until then,
all you may see is clutter and chaos.
Hope is a beautiful velvet chair that sits in the midst of troubles.
You may not see it now, but it is there just the same.
Let your heart find it, and then plop like a child into it's fold
of open velveteen wings, and then choose to see the sunlight
within the open window ahead.



Also linking with lovely Emily at Imperfect Prose


 







Monday, November 19, 2012

The Force of Change,

Squall, 1986, by Andrew Wyeth



"The wind shows us how close to the edge we are." ~Joan Didion


.
We are a mere tug boat
 in an ocean of waves.
and like a stern father
winds force pushes us on our way.
We venture onward
far from the touch of land.
Seeking freedom's paddle
within our hands.
We do not settle
nor take down roots.
Nature has a way
of making us move.
For one cannot remain still
in the midst of sea's storm,
as the waters ever changing
 provide their own scorn.
We must ride each wave
brave like a sailor true.
You see that's just what
all good sailors do.



 



Friday, November 16, 2012

The Battle Scars of Inconvenience

Verdum, 1917, by Felix Vallotton


If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire, then you got a problem.  Everything else is inconvenience. 
 ~Robert Fulghum



Life is full of paper cuts that sting but leave no mark.
A thousand aggravations that attack us in the dark.

So we hide in a bunker trying to avoid every trap.
Dodging annoyances like bullets we lay low on our path.

Craving no resistance we march forward with closed eyes.
Soldiers on a mission to find oblivian at any price.

The battle for a perfect life is a stuggle that will never cease.
for this life is a journey of imperfections that simply serve to teach.

 


Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Loneliness Is The Longest of Seasons



"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco."
~Mark Twain


Linking with Poetry Jam


Spring is like a lover
 that kisses you on the lips.
While summer is a brother
 that hits you with a fist.
Then autumn is a sister
you want to remain close.
Yet lonely's name is winter
that come to leave you all alone.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Geology of a Broken Heart

Charis, Lake Ediza, California, 1937, by Edward Weston


Also linking with Imaginary Gardens open link Monday.


"God can heal a broken heart, but He has to have all the pieces". ~Author Unknown


We cautiously excavate our  life like a young geologist
unsure of what to let lay and what to keep.

Digging through each hurt like rubble
and dusting off the loss for all to see.

We examine all the evidence of life
hypothesizing the source of pain

looking for some reason
hoping for proof or someone to blame.

We leave ourselves wide open
when we search with eyes closed tight.

Trudging further in the mud instead
of digging deeper down inside.

We take on the heavy burden
to somehow carry on the journey home.

Never understanding these worn artifacts
were not meant for us to bear alone.




I believe that the process of recovery and the lesson of letting go is an ongoing journey we never stop re-learning.  Life is full of adversity that we must face everyday, and like choosing salad verses french fries, it is a constant choice. With every problem that arises (and trust me, they will show up, like an unwanted bill in the mail), we have the power to give it to God, and seek His guidance, or to hold on to the situation ourselves, and lean on our own strength and will.  I choose the lighter option. :-)





Thursday, November 1, 2012

A Legion of Ghosts

"True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen."
~Francois de la Rochefoucauld


All my regrests haunt me like a great legion of ghosts.
They lurk waiting to appear in the places I miss most.
One sits at the piano that I never learned to play.
Another echoes in the voice of the words I never say.
Some linger on the road side of the places I never went.
Others roam to distant places in the letters never sent.
There is one that resides under glass upon a higher shelf.
While another stands in a stranger's shoes reminding me of myself.
Each one follows where I go like a lover still in a love thats new.
For I embrace them close and hard and thats just what lovers do.


Linking with Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads


I do believe in ghosts...I know people that have seen them....and I believe it to be true.  Of course my poem is not really about real ghosts, but I do believe that there are many things in our lives that can haunt us just like an apparition or ghost.  The only difference is, we have the power to let these things go, or we can choose to continue holding on.

....and they lived happily ever after.....

....and they lived happily ever after.....
The End.