I Love

I love you, all of you. That is my worst crime; it's my biggest failing. Loving is my gift; my salvation is love. I will love you regardless of what you think your faults are. I will love you for even the smallest act of good you do. I will love you because of your hatred, And I will love you for how much or little you love me. My love is pure. Not tainted with passion or lust. There is no limitations of my love for you. It does not see the social boundaries. It does not love you more or less due to our proximity. My love captures you and holds you dear. Even if it is the last thing on this great Earth I need. My love is also my prison. It ties me, binds me to every being. Like an ancient ship gaining motion only through wind and tide, the pull and speed is not in my control. Both a victor and victim to the strongest emotion of humankind, love.

Bear Parade

Dreamt of bears, parading past; guard the children, hold them fast. Momma with cub rolling along, may the doors hold and stand up strong. From East to West they stroll on by, we run in fear as we cry. I saw no end to their travels, then I wake, it all unravels.

Healing

Too wounded to see the damage that is done. Too caring to acknowledge that heartache that is there. So close to the insanity that is laid out in shreds. Feeling no help from the people who care. Circle the trauma, taking in all the cuts. Laying the plans for the mending to begin. Careful stratagem for the wellness of the mind. Intricately devised to cover the sin. Lost in this battle is something not seen. Adrift is the heart of the caring responder. The body that fades and is lost in commotion. The person who would be the only survivor. What care is in place to heal this trauma? Who creates the healing of this slighted lost being? Is the soul to wander, forever grieving? Or can love be applied for cure, something unseen?

For A Little Warmth

The furnace is out. It would not be so bad if not for the biting cold winds, caressing the gaps around my windows, constantly inviting itself into my house. The daytime heat gives the house a normal warm feeling that nothing is amiss, but as the sun starts is dip into the horizon you feel the cold tendrils moving its way into all the rooms. Laying in bed with blankets to your chin, using it as shield against the cold. That is really my only defense at the moment. It's easy to get lost, nesting down in the pillows and trapped heat of the bed. It's also easy to decide to not to come out. But something always finds a way of calling you out of your comfort. The trip to the frozen toilet seat, the need to quench a thirst. These things would nag and nag at you until you gave in, so you suffer the consequences as quickly and painlessly as possible, always retreating the blankets with lingering warmth. I hope the furnace is fixed soon, I may never want to leave the mini-kingdom of comfort any more.

Knotted

Defining something so fluid as thought and emotion. What a task. It can't be solved over a steaming cup of chamomile tea. It does not lend itself to sleep either. So there you sit, your eye lids heavy and wary, trying to think yourself a way out of a mental prison. You may as well get comfortable, your sentence may be longer than you expect. Try for once to feel than think it though. Feel the emotions and reactions, and let your heart decide. Let your heart decide the next course. Then feel again. Like a knot on a wet sneaker, the strings will loosen. You may not get every knot off your string, but maybe you will be a little straighter than when you started.

40 hours

40 hours. The mind feels like it is a different shape after 40 hours. You feel it resting on your lower eye socket, puffing out your skin. It also feels like your skull gained an inch in circumference and purposely bobbles your head from one side to the next. Of course thinking is harder too. Just trying to remember what little thought you had in your mind just that one moment before. It fluttered away like a leaf in the wind, never to be seen again. Slumber would be sweet remedy. To close the eyes and rest the body, as well as rest the mind. Stopping the thoughts and voices in your head would be the perfect vacation to existence. Take this thought to heart: things will begin to blossom again in the marrow, and time will heal the injuries of the past. Sleep well.

The Daily Walk

The marked woman moved through the crowd. Not one soul acknowledged her but all gave her pointed glances. Whispers were sung from ear to ear, moving faster than a starved fire on dry bark. She continued her lonely procession knowing it had to be done. Keeping her head high showed all there was not a tear in her eye. She set her jaw and kept her eyes straight. Her mask covered her fear that nearly boiled to the surface. Thus was the daily walk of a marked woman.