Rilke says to celebrate the questions. 1. A truth has circled me like a persistent fly, zooming in close and then away again. When I stare straight at it, it becomes momentarily clear. Then suddenly it’s gone disappearing into thin air. The truth hurts almost as much as my perception of my Being Broken has wounded me, at…
Tag: Parents
MOTHER [a poem about a parent aging]
Something shifted in the cosmos today as I became a giver, her One. The one who thinks like a pastor, fondly listening inside to her heart which is lonely. The one who touches like a nurse, open to the clues, simple hints about pain. The one who creates food to share, serving the body and…
Today I Said No
Today I said no. I said no to something that might have been sweet and good, something that I would enjoy and that would make me feel good about myself – helping other people. It was something that was even noble. Can I be honest and tell you that I need some things to do…
At Some Point (A poem) This is an old old poem, from 2008.
At Some Point (May 15, 2008) Anxious, chaotic thoughts My fears unexplained by logic or even a specific memory. I am caught in the tangle of what happened long ago. This story is about what didn’t happen. Undetected was your love. Like a puzzle missing pieces, a puzzle that can’t be finished. Suffering the affliction…
Growing Old is so Uncool!
Over the last five years my life story has been full of tension and some might say tragedy. The process has been grueling and traumatic. My parents have made a problematic imprint on my life. I am working toward the days when I can celebrate again the good people that they are, but I must…
Splintered Truth
… Originally uploaded by M e l o d y This is not the end. It is just another day. A bitter clutching. Somehow she will love, enough. And will continue to speak truth. Their voices are her voices which hold power for her, only if she listens to the clutch of their ancient lies….
this epic grief
this Epic Grief September 13, 2009 Minutes tick. Limbs twitch. Covers are tangled & awry. I think I am almost under, when I realize that I have been awake for hours. It is too late. Sleep eludes me. In the darkness I lay back again. And again. And again. My mind full of shadows; ripples…
Phantom Love
You can’t just say you love me. Love isn’t words. Love is time — spent over the span of a life. Words are a phantom love. I can’t mend your hurting heart. I don’t even know why I should try. Empty, adrift. You are searching for something. Crying out, and I hear you. But I…
