Traverse

 

It drives me to the coast of Rhome

It grants me passage to the peaks.

It yearns to harness nightly waves.

But, there in sleep, defenseless, I dream.

Then, realizing, I breathe and then turn away.

Awake, I rise from the warmth of the eve and rise to tangle in worlds unknown,

Traversing to corners and cultures new.

In woods and paths unknown, I unravel wounded threads,

Pass and intrude. In a gentle sweeping and uncovering, it’s trapped.

Hidden, trapped, desiring release.

I rest, waiting. Sometimes it comes.

I rest, waiting. Sometimes it flees.

Seeking. It can’t always be hidden.

 

The opportunity

“Ho, ho, ho!” I don’t think that’s what a merry laugh really sounds like. I usually hear “Hah, hah, hah, snort, clap!” Maybe Santa was actually “Ho-ing”in an attempt at lifting all he had to carry this year? Maybe he wasn’t laughing at all??

But, seriously, Merry Christmas to you and Merry “other-holidays” to others.

I wish you well in these days that most agree come with a mixture of Merry-ness and all sorts of other “nesses”.

As the year comes to a close, I wish it farewell. Thankfully, it went fast! I’m trying not to dislike it and instead see it for what it is, an opportunity.

The opportunity to break. To finally reach a breaking point, to reach a sort of end and completeness. An”end” to things feels sucky and dark. But, the dark side’s power is a sham. As a matter of fact, belief, faith, I think it has deep purpose.

I’m no expert. I’m no preacher, but I did watch some Star Wars movies. Old and new. The force is with us. (Look it up: mental and moral strength)

At some point, we can drag ourselves from this pit with the force, there waiting for us (if we want it) is the ever always heroes of: faith, hope and love.

And yes, the greatest of these is LOVE, but don’t discount FAITH and HOPE. These are BIG too. If needed, look at these as the branches of government. You get the idea.

Right now, if there is a sort of a dark power rising up in your life, step on the fucker with a foot of faith and hope. Even just a flicker will snuff out the power of the deadly red saber.

~May the FORCE be with you.

 

A small gift of time

 

It’s given to us generously and we often take it for granted until we find ourselves with a lack of it. We fill our time with this and that. We dream of desires to do this and that when we steal a bit of time for ourselves. But, often, we don’t even do those things. *Guilty*

We sweep the floor, we shop for gifts, hang the stockings, wash the clothes, etc., but am I remembering that even those busy times are still times that others wish they had. While we stay busy, others suffer a time they hadn’t asked for and resent what has been given. Holiday time shouldn’t be for mourning, crying, or sitting alone. It shouldn’t involve being cold, hungry or desperately addicted.

Be still and know that He is God and we are not. But we can be guides, messengers, and vehicles for his love and healing. Am I listening to the voice that says “Allow yourselves to be used. Speak words of kindness, encouragement and peace to others who need it.”

I’ll try. If nothing else is produced in me, then please God, let it be that I can bring peace to another, kindness, and above all, love.

~Peace.

 

 

 

I’m an ostrich

Yeah, I’m not a musician, but some mornings I wake up hearing the best guitar solo, seriously, but with no instrumental talent to let it out. I guess I’m “inner-expressing”. It seems a much safer avenue then letting it out which at times I choose to do and it ain’t pretty, raw emotion rarely is. It‘s like having a lion inside my inner lamb that needs to roar and my inner controls just are tired of holding onto it, so I let it go. Roar! and all too quickly following the roar is a paw going right to my mouth which then transforms into like a chicken claw (can’t think of the animal lingo) and I become an Ostrich ready to stick my head in the sand. Do ostriches really do that? Ostriches are weird. I don’t even know if I’m spelling it right, but too early to check. Maybe I’m an ostrich because only recently I saw a video comparing a sound they make to a lion.

Ok, enough about animals I don’t know much about. I’m writing because I woke up early and I have a busy day ahead of me and I just want time to click the keyboard in peace. I may not be able to fly my fingers on guitar strings, but I can type, and fast! Okay, not like Elaine-fast 😉

What woke me up? A dream I was having. In it I was pulling up a chair and talking to my mother and I was enjoying it. The older I get, the more I get her, the more I understand her and it, the roar. She needed to roar at times, she needed us to know it was there and now I understand why.

~Roar! (then go stick your head in the sand)

 

 

No Longer

To “no longer” is to linger no more.

To “no longer” is to reboot.

To “no longer” is to act boldly on a new idea.

To “no longer” is to seek and pursue a more peaceful way.

To “no longer” manages chronic pain.

To “no longer” is to change directions.

To “no longer” is to excitedly wander in new lands.

To “no longer” is to discover renewed strength.

To “no longer” is to rest a matter.

To “no longer” is to stop the course.

To “no longer” is to choose a new way.

 

Take Me Away

I wrote this with those in mind whose lives have recently (and not so recently) been invaded by the terrible choices that other humans make. I can’t understand, nor have I lived this terror myself. But, I’m realizing that this could be my life. It could be anyone’s life, unfortunately. But today, I can only imagine the pain, the tears. But I do care and think about the unimaginable that has become another’s life.

With still heavy lids, I woke up to a strange and terrible rumble, the shattering of glass, the smell of death and screams.

It invaded my dream of sandy beaches and the noise of a children’s laughter.

The terror of today took my life.

Took the life I had known. The life I had grown to love,

My life filled with love, with peace, the smell, the taste, the sounds of home.

That was my life, that was our life, that was our home.

Many, many days before, so long ago, so long ago…so long.

So… long… ago.

And now, I run, I hide, I fear not knowing where to go or where to sleep.

Where do I go, oh where do I go, where do I go, where should we go?

And finally I stop, I only stop because my feet can’t go anymore. I fall exhausted to the

ground. I rest because I have to. I try to.

I sleep. But, my mind forgot how to rest,  I recycle the images I can’t deal with during the day.

I awake trembling, searching, but groggy with sleep.

I succumb again…I sleep for a

moment.

Then, it begins again, the noise invades.

This is my life. A life with no home.

When I find I can’t run anymore, or sleep.

I find a corner and I weep.

I weep as a unconsolable child heaving and hugging myself into an ever smaller person.

I desire to disappear, to hide from my reality.

Because this is not life, this is not home, I have no peace, I have no hope.

Help, help, help me from this hell.

Take me away from here. Please take me away far from here. Take me, take me away, I pray take me away, take me away, take me away…from here.

My tears stop in my trembling hand, I hear a whisper, ” I’m here. I’m sorry.”

I look up I cry and I scream, “Why….,” I’m filled with anger…”Why?!…why?!.”

I hear nothing, but silence. It’s strange at first, I look around…wait, but nothing,

For the moment. And then…

The wind moves the trees, and the raindrops begin, quietly…steady..and then a deluge.

The thunder crashes and the earth vibrates with the thunder. It repeats again and again.

I have no fear. The storm reverberates.

And I know, he sees, he feels, he hears, he knows.

I see my trembling hand taken, I feel my hair caressed, I sense my face being touched and I hear…

“I’ll take you away, from here, from here, I’ll take you away from here, I’ll take you. I’ll take you, I’ll take you away, away,  away, take you away…take you from here, far away from here. Away from here.

I’ll take you away. I’ll take you away….away from here.

The thunder rumbles, the wind calms, the rain steadies. The storm is over. For the moment. A moment. Just a moment.

For just a moment…

He took me away, away from here. From the hell down here. From all the pain down here, In my life… right here. He took me, he took me, he took me and shook me awake, he took me away.

From here.

 

 

 

 

 

Right

When I write, it’s because I lose faith in the ability for me to communicate, especially to those I love the most.

When I write, it’s because I have time to formulate and compose.

When I write, it’s because I have failed in some way,  I write it’s because I’m trying to redeem myself.

When I write, it’s because I’ve exposed myself with words and I’m trying to cover the truth or trying (in hope) to expose a greater truth.

I write because it reveals truth and it is the truth that will set us free.

I write to be free.

~peace.

Just a touch

She bent over her and her husband’s bed and wept. He was asleep in the basement. The divorce papers were in the drawer and her wedding pictures and other keepsakes thrown together in a box in the corner of the bedroom. The tears that had been lying dormant for months decided to escape from her soul tonight. She wept aloud and decided she didn’t care if he heard her because tonight she knew her marriage of 22 years was finally over and it was grievous to her.

She shuffled her feet along the wooden, creaky floors throwing her used tissues down. She frowned at the sight of her bedroom because they’d decorated it together, each wall holding a treasure collected at the local art festivals. She sniffed as she walked around her bed near the corner where the wedding keepsakes had been put; her marriage tossed in a box. She picked up the pink basket that he’d made for her and again the tears poured out. Then she remembered  what her daughter had recently told her, “Mom, I’ll keep your wedding pictures with me.” And that thought caused the upper part of her body to collapse onto his side of the bed in a mixture of both anger and anguish. She grabbed at the sheets to use them to wipe her tears. They had created three beautiful, compassionate children who were willing to care for them both despite the tear that divorce would do in their own lives.

She moaned and loathed the sound of it. The moan or groan had come from deep within and she let it out, but the sound of it caused her to force herself to stop. Divorce, there was no other alternative, she thought, she tried everything, but nothing had worked and both of them tired of the fight to stay together. There was nothing left to save.

Resigned to a new reality, she stopped crying, and listened for any movement in the basement and heard nothing. “Figures” she thought. He’s really finished with us.”  Not wanting to hear any more of her groans, she decided to go to bed. She took melatonin to help her ease into sleep. And as she settled into the quiet, she heard a voice say, “Go touch him” and she stirred in bed and said, “What? Lord? We have not even greeted each other or looked at each other. Why would I do that?” After questioning the voice, she tried to settle into sleep and forced herself to close her eyes, but though exhausted, sleep refused to overtake her. Instead, she heard again, “Go touch him” To which she turned onto her back and looked at the darkness of the ceiling. Instead of questioning the voice, she fought with the blankets while her mind envisioned herself first walking down the steps and then opening the door. It seemed simple enough, but “then what?” she pondered, “All you need to do is touch him.” “Really Lord?” she countered.

She turned to hug her pillow, but her lids were wide open and her mind active. “Just touch him” and she thought, “Well, I guess”, but instead, she recalled her husband’s stoic face. She’d no longer found comfort in the blue of his eyes, but instead she swore they changed color from a sea blue to an icy teal. Touching him right now would put her in a vulnerable position and  the possibility of rejection was more than she could bear tonight, but still the voice insisted, “Go touch him” and she blew out a sigh of frustration.

Afterwards, she threw back her covers and knew that as soon as she got out of bed that she wouldn’t return until she touched him and so, with that, she saw herself get out of bed and begin the long walk towards the basement stairs. The house was dark and her steps creaked the floor beneath her. When she reached the stairs, she took a deep breath before descending. She listened for any sound, but heard nothing. She reached the door and knocked gently hoping he didn’t answer and he didn’t, but the voice persisted, “Just a touch”. So, knowing she’d come this far, she turned the knob and found him asleep on the couch. He hadn’t heard her knock, so she stared at him sleeping for a short time before she walked toward the edge of the bed. Awkwardly, she sat as far from him, and reached out to touch his back. He didn’t stir until she began to rub his back and that’s when he woke in a startle. He sat up, stared at her and asked, “What are you doing?” To which she answered nervously, “I-I’m just touching you, that’s what I’m supposed to do. Go back to sleep, j-just let me rub your back.” And he sat and said, “I don’t understand what you’re doing.” Lifting her hand and biting her lip, she rose from the bed and quietly said, “I don’t know either.” She started to leave and turned towards the door and she heard him say, “Wait” and she stopped and turned around slowly and then he said, “It’s okay.” Hearing him say it was okay gave her the courage to step back towards him and grab his hand and gently squeeze it and as she brought it to her mouth and then her forehead, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

He took in her words and her touch and brought her close to his chest. She was weeping freely now into his chest. The ache in his heart caused him to hold her closely and suddenly he found himself overcome with desire for his repentant wife. He raised up her face to his and he kissed her hungrily and she responded to him. They wept together and continued to hold each other.

They held each other tightly all night and vowed to never let go. Ever again.