Our Hearts Always Hold Them Close,

the butterfly jar by lostinthisphotograph 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 63


Grief — the great redefiner of life. ~Terri Guillemets

Loss is a burden that we carry with us quietly

And sometimes others eyes do not see

Though it echoes loudly in the holders’ heart

With all the beauty that we touch and come to know

We hold on to love the hardest

Wanting its beauty to linger like a butterfly on display

“Stay with me a little longer my love”

Is what my heart always whispers

But this life has its own plans

Heaven has another time line

That our eyes cannot hold

When we must let go

Sometimes our heart still feels their touch

And still hears their voice in song

seeing their beauty in what remains

and their smile in others that share their last name

loss is a burden that we carry with us quietly

sometimes others eyes do not see

though it echoes loudly in the holders’ heart

those that we have had the blessing to love in this life

come to know a deeper freedom

and our spirits must let them go

but our heart always holds them close

no matter what skies they truly fly.

For Lauren and Seth

Grandchildren both in Heaven’s sweet embrace and always in our hearts.

This week it will be one year since my beautiful Granddaughter Lauren went to Heaven joining my wonderful Grandson Seth who went to Heaven before her in 2000.  Losing someone so young is a grief that is hard to capture in words.  It leaves a gaping hole in our heart and that cannot be filled by anything else in this world.  We hold on tightly to what we hold dear, and letting go is not an option for the heart.  All I can say is this; it will be a beautiful reunion when flying into Heaven’s gates, a beautiful reunion indeed!

Poetry of the Sea

Photo by Erik Johansson Master Photo-Manipulation Artist

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 61
come join us!

The ocean does not preach a sermon

Though it has much to tell

That it shares with the moon and every sea shell

It bravely tells as it swells to the shore

Deep like a poet that speaks high to the sea gulls that soar

But Its stories are not heard by man and his makings

For he does not hear when he is too busy taking

He builds and he builds as he strips from the land

It is a sad truth widely known by each grain of sand

So the sea keeps on moving and reaching out

Whispering a message of longing that is true no doubt

For The ocean does not preach a sermon

Though it has much to say

It is heard not in man’s churches but in each unsettling wave.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Thirst of Another Kind

Photography by Carlo Pautasso

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 59
Come join us!
"They roll by just like water 
And I guess we never learn 
Go through life parched and empty 
Standing knee deep in a river and dying of thirst."
~Kathy Matea

It is desolate in the place of longing

Where I wait for you to notice me and

  quench my desire with more than a passing nod

You with your fountain eyes that never flow my direction

Could you not see me withering away with pining

I would have soaked up anything you would have given me

Hung on your words like petals on a flower

For thirsty is a place that drowns in yearning

Dry throats do not crumple like leaves

But hearts do

Leaving nothing to fall to the ground

But regret

And that is the most desolate place of all.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Two Poems

Photo by Pixabay at Pexels

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 51

I decided to be different and write two different poems for the photo.  I would love to hear from you which one is your favorite and why?
 Have a great weekend everyone!

Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair.
 ~G.K. Chesterton

Looking Deeper Within,

Sometimes great cathedral windows seem like eyes

That when you look into them, it is like peering into the soul of humanity

So much history

So many prayers within those walls

The architecture of our great grandfathers

Standing the test of time

Magnificent and still full of humility

Yet, in its solidarity, there is still so much division

It makes me sad looking in

However, when I step into its foyer

It makes me look deeper within

The halls of myself

and my hope is again renewed.

*************************************************

The Blue of Longing,

My heart has been here before in dreams

Outside the stained glass window looking in

The wind is high with longing

and my hair is lose like a harlot

Flying all over the place

I long to enter the cathedral

To be a part of the congregation

To sing as sweet as birds do

but I wake up with a tickle in my throat

Like swallowing a fallen feather

With amazing grace upon my lips

and a thicket of questions upon my breath

I am certain If longing were a color,

 it would be a deeper blue

A stained glass menagerie

My heart seems to know too well

but it is hope that keeps me searching

For answers within that blue abyss

It is hope that shall walk me down the inner aisle.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

The Mountains Speak to Me

Photo Credit


Linking with Imaginary Gardens for Hannah's "Transforming with Nature's Wonders" prompt.
Take a look and join in.

The Mountains Speak to Me,

Hush city
Let my heart follow where it will
to the tallest mountains and the river's rill
You see
my soul has already wed nature's call
where feet may wander and may also fall
like lonely hearts that search the shore
and always leave wanting more
Sshhhh
no city block can fill the void
nor lure me in to it's inner noise
for I was betrothed at a tender time
to take a path that leads to a mountain pine
where the sky reins and trees abound
a place where birds follow and know the sound
hush
can you hear it?
I can.......

Google Images photo

To Comfort the Soul

The Mag #243

"Truth isn't always beauty, but the hunger for it is."

~ Nadine Gordiner

I have always longed for a great love
 to comfort my soul.
 One that would nourish
 every need inside and out.
 Inspire the best and with grace
 make the worst disappear.
  A devotion that would
 cradle like a soft crocheted sock
 and protect my very stance
 from the greatest of stumbling.
 Yet, in my search what I have truly found is

 that the only one that can fulfill
 these needs within my soul is God,
and in my foolishness I reach out to man,
again and again at no avail.
It is in the hard fall
that I find the comfort of God.