Let it Be

My teardrops in all their glory

contain a world of salty purity.

Bathing a little pice of the earth in my unedited soul.

They are a cry to the powers beyond the sky,

of thanks or pain or a desperate plea to the heavens.

They come from the wellspring of life, the place where

spirit and humanity meet

and there a war is raged.

A release of emotion, where sometimes letting the world 

have it instead of keeping it is a refreshing secret.

It’s comforting to know that I must not keep forever those colors

glowing so brightly I cannot hold them

but by releasing them, let them live.

They live while I live,

Making room for deeper and more vibrant hues.

Winter/Spring 2013

A Note to the Deserted and the Desertee

You found what you deserved.

Congratulations.

She didn’t fall at your feet.

You got what you deserved.

I’m so sorry now for myself, because I could have been that girl.

I’m sorry for me that I didn’t realize my blindness earlier.

She thinks you are wonderful.

She’s right; I just realized it too late.

I’m sorry for you in the past and me in the present

that I couldn’t reach out my hand and

meet yours.

But sometimes, life is full of disasters that aren’t narrowly avoided

and hearts that don’t conveniently collide.

May 2013

Humility

I came out one morning

in the bright dewey freshness of the spring

early, to the Garden of my Dreams.

I had planted there, after painstaking thought,

the dreams I forsaw bringing me the most happiness.

but in that moment, I stood dismayed.

These are not my dreams, they are someone else’s.

Can’t we fix it?

Can’t you fix it???

My heart, the home prepared for these dreams grown from the

rich soil of ideals and hope, aches.

this cannot be.

The misfortunes in this world, sometimes are not to be avoided.

The raindrops of unexpected happenstance fall in the night,

when no one sees them, and these plants left behind are

not what I wanted.

I stood barefoot before God and said,

OK. I can’t make new plants grow…

    that’s your specialty.

       So I will take these, for I am lucky to have them.

  And I will nourish them, but

        keep alive in me the hope that there will be

better dreams springing out of this earth

tomorrow.

Spring 2013

Lessons Learned

"Out of the ruins and rubble,
out of the smoke,
Out of our night of struggle,
can we see a ray of hope...
We can build a beautiful city.
When your trust is all but shattered
When your faith is all but killed,
you can give up, bitter and battered.
Or you can slowly start...
to build."

I want a bicycle in my beautiful city.
I want streets paved in butter yellow.
I want wide open spaces at the 
feet of mountains,
baby animals and sidewalk chalk.

I want Christ in my beautiful city.
I want to eternally learn of Him, and from Him.

I want God in my beautiful city.
Because my beautiful city is only
a part of His.
I want to hug Him, and have
the bliss of knowing that
I made it.

And I want a museum in my beautiful city.
Ashes and the deepest despair, frozen
inside a case
where the parents can teach their children
what unhappiness looks like. 

I want you in my beautiful city.
We will walk hand in hand to that museum,
and you will tell me how much you love
and respect me even though the museum
used to be me.


June 22, 2013

My Song Has A History

The song running inside my heart
is changing constantly
And for that, I'm sorry.
Not just for you, but
for all of you
and me.
You told me my singing sounded nice.
I know.
Thats why I was singing.
So you could hear it.
Because it's nice.

You're nice.

I can hear you louder than I could last week.
This part is called, "Lady,"
But the part before is called, "Liv."
And there's a part you can hear still, playing softly, called,
"Divine," "Angel," and "Sassafrass."
And then there's that part that was thought to be silent forever,
but suddenly blares, "Sweetheart."
I've heard it before, but this time the tones are off-key,
sad and lonely because they know how this song ends.

And so the music flows forward, but keeps changing,
evading the possibility of a continuous melody ending 
in discordant disappointment.




June 21, 2013

Ghost

You are a ghost.
I did not seal your memory with tears-did you even exist?
I barely gave you a moment's thought
Recently, and now 
Youe flesh and blood is running through my backyard
You are running from me again 
And i am not even chasing you...
This time 
Let the words fall out
Dont keep them from me
As soon as i ask for them
Like last time



June 20, 2013

It just needed a half-sheet

I wish I knew better
how to love you.
How to see your soul and embrace the
crazy social projection.

I wish I could drop you like nothing
ever happened
and walk away.
I wish i didn't like your parents, your sisters,
your humor, your ties
so much.

I wish I could peek inside your head.
I wish I could glance into Germany.
I wish I wasn't so inexplicably 
attached to you.

I wish you didn't have to go. 
Even from a distance,
you are so good for me.

I wish we had kept being friends.

I wish you had let it go a long time ago,
because you would have been my Prince,
always.

I wish I hadn't cut you off. 
I still feel bad about that.

-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -

I wish you could see her right in front of you.
She hasn't gone anywhere; you hold a great deal
of her potential happiness in your hands.

I wish you'd take her, she deserves better than 
being dusted off at periodic moments
when you need safety. Because she is infinitely superior.
She has healing power.

Stay with her. She is building you, and you her.
We don't get any better;
there are few that deserve her.
She is fighting a different kind of battle;
fight with her.

Take very good care of her, whoever you are. 
She got broken-don't you dare ever break her again.
And you, you beautiful person, keep fighting.
I am waiting to find you.
You are going to help lead me out of the darkness.
I know you are learning.
I hope you cry. I hope you sing. 
I hope I find you soon.
But meanwhile, don't you give up.
              I need you.

Spring 2013