Regret Is a Two Lane Road

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Linking with The Sunday Muse for Muse # 16 and Imaginary Gardens for The Tuesday Platform

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Life is an adventure in forgiveness. ~Norman Cousins

All the places I have been do not whisper in my ear like a shy child

It is the places I have never been but should have gone

That tap me on the shoulder in the middle of the night

Demanding my undivided attention

Regrets are like that

Cousins of a certain loss

Yet strangers

Divided like the lines on a road

Branches of the same tree that head in different directions

One is the grief of mistakes made

The other the loss of opportunities that no longer are ahead

That we should have grasped whole heartedly when we could

For the regret of our mistakes is a sorrow that can be forgiven

Sooner than a country mile

But forgiving ourselves for words unspoken or visits to loved ones never taken

Is a heartache that holds a certain agony

That can be a life long journey to let go.

Note:

My maternal grandmother had agoraphobia, and the only time she left her home was to vote.  As a child I never really realized the abnormality in it.  She just never went with us, and we would bring back dinner for her sometimes, even though she thought that you had to be careful about restaurants cause the food could be tampered with.   As years passed, and I had a home.  I settled into a routine of my own, and though I had gone on several trips out of state as a younger adult and into my 30’s I found myself having a certain anxiety with trips that went very far out of town.  I decided that I had agoraphobia on a grander scale.  I could leave my home, leave my town, but the minute I am heading on a long trip far away, I am in a mental episode of anxiety.  I think I have shared this before on earlier posts, but I felt this important to share again because it has caused me much regret when it comes to who I have visited and where I have gone. It seems I have really held myself back and stifled my own chances of seeing great things, or visiting those I hold dear.  The saddest part is, there are several people that I have lost the opportunity to see again, and I only have my own fear to blame.  This is a hard road to take when you carry that kind of guilt.  I can only say, I am working on it.  May your roads ahead be full of opportunities taken.  That is my wish for us all!

The Uncertainty of Rain

The Angelous by Jean-Francois Millet

~This painting hung on the wall of my grandparent's living room all the years of my childhood.  It has always been my favorite painting in it's powerful and beautiful simplicity.~

The uncertainty of rain keeps us strong

holding on to hope with a tiller in the field

but with hard work and prayer you can't go wrong

knowing something greater is our strength and shield

the humility of needing and knowing grace

is a strength that feeds more than one

for hope is a cousin of tried and true faith

and when two kneel together it shall be done.

Miracles

Courtesy Google Images


Linking with Imaginary Gardens for the Tuesday Platform, and The Sunday Muse  for muse # 15



"The miracle is this: the more we share the more we have."  ~ Leonard Nimoy

I waited so long for you not knowing how you would arrive

Expecting something loud and striking

A grand entrance like a meteor shower on the countryside

Thunderbolts and lightening something mighty something bold

for my heart was tattered like worn clothing

And my soul chapped like lips in winter’s cold

while it felt like I had journeyed through the Sahara

Sunburned and thirsty for some kind of peace

Drunk on uncertainty’s ambiguous nectar

Bumping into chaos through crowded streets

By the time you had found me

I was unaware you had strategically arrived

That is when I learned

You had been there all around me the whole time.

The Sound of Loneliness


Linking with The Sunday Muse for # 14
and Imaginary Gardens for the Tuesday Platform brought to us by the lovely Sanaa
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Silence is a sounding thing, to one who listens hungrily.  ~Gwendolyn Bennett


Loneliness is a song I learned in the echoed voice of large halls
searching for my own words when other's spoke nothing at all
where empty rooms held a certain grief that could swallow you whole
and windows were like distant mirrors of all I longed to know 
Somehow I carried the ballad with me through years from place to place
and the words linger within me as silence within a crowded space
I remember the verse most clearly not in solitude from the crowd
but in busy public places is where it becomes truly loud.



Note:

Sometimes loneliness can be like lightning bolts of emptiness in a world full of hurt, but in this world there is also hope.  We all face certain struggles in our journey, and those struggles can be different as night and day.  Mine have been childhood loss, loneliness and a yearning for normalcy in the past that I never truly had.  But in our different struggles we have the opportunity to be there for each other.  To lend a listening ear, shoulder to cry on, or kindness and support.  Yes silence has a sound but so too does hope and I am learning hope's song like a child one note at a time. 

It Is What It Is

Dream House by Jim Warren

Linking with The Sunday Muse for Muse # 13
Also linking with Poets United for Poetry Pantry
A lot of 13s going on here....hope that is a lucky sign not a bad one. LOL

Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be. ~Grandma Moses



~Sometimes my eyes are cactus near a flowing stream~

Life is like a dusty chandelier and the dimmer the setting
 the less you can see what can be done. 


~Sometimes my lips are bankrupt in a solemn fortress~

Life is like a triple scoop ice cream cone
and if you do not eat it earnestly while you can
it will melt all over and leave a big mess


~Sometimes my heart feels like just a spoon of pepto in a world of disease~

Life is like a crystal vase upon a table
it is meant to be filled with beautiful flowers not be empty on a shelf.


~Sometimes my feet are red wood trees in a fast moving blaze~

Life is like a tall rocky mountain
it is majestic and an inspiration to stand before yet also an utter struggle to climb.


~Sometimes my hands are frail like bent limbs on a dying tree~

Life is like an unbridled horse
that runs free out of our control
yet still we try to tame it.

Note:

I have spent many years not seeing what I should, not relishing what I could, not being all I could be,  and trying to control what was out of my hands. It seems some lessons do not come easy.  Gaining wisdom has been like taming an unbridled horse.  It is hard, and it is going to take some time.  I suppose life is meant to be a process of learning and growth.  If it were meant to be easy, it would be.  I just feel a bit weary sometimes.  I am a slow learner and I have the bunions to prove it.    I am in need of a true vacation, maybe a trip to the beach to just walk the shore, count my blessings, and pick up some sea shells along the way.   

Four Sad Songs for a City Slicker

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Linking with Poets United for Midweek Motif ~ City

Don't let the city steal your soul. ~Terri Guillemets




Noisy Lover

You are a lover that only some hearts can keep

with your noisy chaos and slippery streets

you have the power to make fickle the strongest of souls

making them yearn for a more green and peaceful home

though you are like an amazing poem with so much packed in a small space

you cannot compare to God's quite country of beauty and grace.

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Lost on 5th and Broadway

A trip to the city gives me shivers like frost
cause instead of arriving it feels more like being lost
getting mixed in the fabric of engines and lights
and for some that is suffocation of a different kind
a world full of people from the west to the east
an accident on Main and traffic jam on all streets
you are certain to get lost before you find your place
cause you left your heart on a field a country mile away.


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Skyscraper Song

You have designed me like gods that never knew heaven
my posture straight and strong but I am prone to disease
your blue prints seem perfect in plan and design
my stories are many and I am worth more
than some see in a a life time
then when plans change and walls mold and decay
I am disposed of like trees
for you have designed me like gods that never knew heaven
my posture straight and strong but I am prone to disease

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 The City and the Night

It is alive like a crackling camp fire
streams of light seem to melt together
moving to a pace only fast songs can play to
one street begins where another ends
yet all objects in the mirror are more distant
than they seem
still like lovers the city and the night become one
the sighs of a hundred lost lovers
hum in the distance and yet ring right in our ears
so many lonely people in one place
our love is 100 miles away
while another's bumps us as we pass.

Hearken 101

Courtesy Google Images

 

Linking with Poets United for Poetry Pantry # 410

 

The past can't see you, but the future is listening. ~Terri Guillemets

There is no school for this

no pop quiz 

nor multiple choice 

for you to pencil in the answer

no

you can't get the info on line

nor read it from a text book

no preparation is provided 

you just have to learn as you go 

Life is like that

experience is a wild horse

that you have to ride hard to earn

and falling is only a bonus

that the future will reward

no saddle needed just make sure

you have your boots

thick jeans

and an open heart.