It Has Been Awhile

it has been awhile since I walked a mile in her shoes

this ritual silence has blown away on November wind

uttering the howls of change and broken ceilings

on the ash and cedar decadence and delight on turns of day and night

it has been awhile since I walked a mile in her shoes

to feel the depth of season

to withstand all of foliage debris

to be in a place of all the beauty I can see

The Cure of Troy

Human beings suffer.
They torture one another.
They get hurt and get hard.
No poem or play or song
Can fully right a wrong
Inflicted and endured.
History says, Don’t hope
On the side of the grave,’
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up
And hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea- change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles.
And cures and healing wells.
Call miracle self-healing,
The utter self revealing
Double-take of feeling.
If there’s fire on the mountain
And lightening and storm
And a god speaks from the sky
That means someone is hearing
The outcry and the birth-cry
Of new life at its term.
It means once in a lifetime
That justice can rise up
And hope and history rhyme.
#Nicola Sturgeon

Lastly, Last Night

imageedit_42_7905039574

Lastly, last night’s vigil…

I could not write you a love song.

I would not know where to start.

But last night’s vigil,

reaching for you is where it turns the light from the dark.

My words have never been acquainted with eloquence.

Yet, then came the touch of your skin.

The simplest gesture for many years…unrecognized.

Truest freedom is to lay down by your side.

Misguided romance and nightly party favors,

had been my used to be, host.

Anger’s undercover liaison.

Who had promised to protect me from me.

Hostage of the Heart…had been the bedtime tale.

Spoken words intended to make the strong frail.

Through the trail of fears,

you have taken back my night.

Lastly, last night, you lay beside me…as you always have.

As always, daring me to care.

Lastly, last night’s vigil.

Home at last.

Lastly, last night.

Home at last.

imageedit_57_5915917534

 

 

Illness

How is it going to be?

night stalking civility

I cannot comprehend with withered soul, the complacency

Bedraggled within my calloused feet, a fork in the road…no one seems to see

The hallway that looms between the walls of a mind…

has stopped time

As I witness the barren, stone ground, road ahead…

blistered and hollow

On and on and on, we, I shall go

Searching in the wilderness of a soul

I only wish to lay my bitterness in a earthen bed

No Ugliness In the Dark

There is no ugliness in the dark, it now soothes my soul.

It is pruned and hidden behind all that I know.

A midnight hour…now, has become as slow and methodical, as a turtle in spring time.

Quiet, watchful and meandering.

Where there had once been discomfort from the levels of kindness…

I offer myself, whatever will be…will be.

Where had once been fear and disenchantment…

an ease.

No more hardship.

I am hidden and appointed…no longer is there someone else’s misery.