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.

Darling Angel

You are my darling Angel. You made me better than who I was yesterday. You make me strive to be a better me tomorrow. You open my eyes to everything around me. You show me how to love the things that are hardest to love; And to love deeper the things that are easy. Light surrounds you where ever you go. You bring the sunshine of hope and joy and share it boundlessly with all you meet. Be my darling Angel always, for you teach me how to be your darling Angel.

The Box

I don't even check the walls for weaknesses anymore. I hadn't done that for years. It was so pointless to run my hands frantically, methodically over every square inch. I had not found any weakness, not even the beginnings of an opportunity. Those days were desolate and dark. Feeling the solitude was almost unbearable. The urge to claw my nails through my heart to my soul was immense. I sat there waiting for things to change. I had kept watching. I didn't test the boundaries of my prison but I watched everything with determination. I looked for differences and changes. Most things I saw were so small and non-essential to the security of the blockade, that at first I did not even pay them any mind. Pointless information floating in and out of my daily routine, I had thought it not worth my time. Of course, what was time really for someone like me? It came in small steps at first. I would see a thought and let it play out to it's fullest. See where it went. And where it went was amazing. I was able to go places within my own mind and be there fully. Of course I would come back to my confinement and see no changes in the walls. But I found a way to at least temporarily stay my imprisonment. I let my mind wander in and out of these journeys. Finding new and what I thought were impossible ways of thought. It was exhilarating, I felt I was soaring above my plight, even just for moments. Always coming back to my cell. Then today, I learned something. I don't have to come back.

Little Death

Would it kill you if I left? Just went out the door. Walked away, see you never more? If close my eyes and cry some tears, thinking about all the years. Seeing how thing had gone, wrong and wrong. Never knowing when to say when. Laying out my heart and hoping the best. Never seeing it coming, I couldn't even guess. And I cry. And I cry. I cry "No more, please no more"

Would it kill you if I left? Would it break your heart? Never coming back any more. And I close my eye, and wait for them to dry. Not wasting anymore on your love. Seeing how, I am with you. Makes it worse. Never knowing when to say when. Laying out my heart and hoping the best. Never seeing it coming, I couldn't even guess. And I cry. And I cry. I cry "No more please"

How I Love You

Have you ever watch a lone snowflake fall to the ground? The moment it catches your eye you are instantly mesmerized. Flipping and spinning slowly, the daylight reflects off its perfectly formed side like a diamond in a showcase. It twirls and dances, inviting you to join its solo dance. At the end of the performance, it lays itself softly on the ground, and you notice it is not alone. A million others had piled themselves around you as you were drawn to the one flake. That is how I love you. I charm you with my dance when I fact I had been surrounding you all along. My love is like a snowflake. Pure and honest. You know I'm there, encompassing you with my very being

Written Life

The only sound in the room was the of the pencil drawn over the yellowed stationary. Every day was the same, writing about the small things she did to keep herself busy. Going to the store and finding that the grocer was out of tomatoes again. Or how the wind knocked down the laundry line down in the backyard. Encouraging words of things they would do together again, the drive to the lake for a picnic. How she longed to have him hold her again. She never allowed a sad note or negative word in her posts. She could not bear causing him any pain. He often wrote how she was the island of sanity for him. He could not wait to come home and do 'the regular things'. Next to her letter was his latest post. He had written about the small village outside of Paris he was in. The flowers were blooming and they had made him think of her. The weather was beautiful and calm, much better than he had endured in the last 13 months. He spoke of making up for the last two anniversaries and a Christmas too. He reminisced about their first date, and the first house they had bought. His handwriting was so calm and clear, he seemed to have some leisure to write out his thoughts to her. He spoke of his pride of his unit and of Lt Chance. The plans those two were making of living in the same town together, to have weekend picnics and their future kids to grow up together. Downstairs Mother answered the knock on the door, drying her hands on her apron. As Mother looked over the man in the uniform her face went white...

Little King

Little King of a little hill, Watching everything while standing still. His ermine coat in perfect fluff, Covered, warm and a little gruff. Holding court, and regally seen, The Little King of Evergreen.

One of Thousands

One of thousands. That is what I am. The many of us can not even get lost in a crowded city, our numbers are too great.

When you hear the Great Winds play their songs you hear a soulful sadness. It carries the tears of the many before us, for they knew this was coming. They knew the children would not understand why they were trying to fit in. They knew the children would be lost no matter how close they kept to each other for comfort and direction. The Great Winds' song is heard in the instruments of the people. The flute that carries the mournfully cries, and the hope of harmonies for the hearts of the children. The drums, that with each beat can give pictures in the mind of life as it was.

The life that was free from the terribleness of the decay. The decay that is the downward spiral that leads to broken souls and no direction. Life was better then, better for the soul to make you one with your brother. Hold you closer to the Earth for life. Life then was better for the bond between spirit and the living. The braiding of the animals to humans, to sustain the peoples' bodies. One complete circle. It was simple. Do everything though intention and will, use your heart for guidance and you can sustain the cycle forever, and have eternal life.

But I am one of thousands. I am lost, and I feel I can not find the way. My heart tugs at finding peace and direction, but my head will not listen. It would be easy to drown these sorrows; drunken stupors to help you not hear what is in your mind. Unfocused minds to not feel what is your heart. Hate as much as you can for what you don't know that you have lost. Spitting meanness from your mouth because your ears have not heard the voice of your ancestors. These paths seem easier to tread without the guidance we so desperately need. I do not even entertain thoughts of fairness. Who am I to judge what is fair? I can not see the complete cause and effect, the small being I am. I am but one sister among the thousands.

I feel deep down inside if the thousand were to stand up, to heal their broken souls, to find their direction, listen to the voices of our ancestors, learn what we lost, feel what is in our hearts and hear our minds speak the truths, we can gain our power. Bring back our circle, and eternal life.

Blessed

I hope I choose with these thought to be said, counting always in my head. I know that I am truly blessed, as I close my eyes for some rest. I hope that those of you far and near, hold your blessings very dear.

Tick Tock

Tick tok, watch the clock! Close your eyes and sleep! Ding ding, what is wrong? Now it's time to wake!

Would It Kill You

Would it kill you if I left? Just went out the door. Walked away, see you never more? If close my eyes and cry some tears, thinking about all the years. Seeing how thing had gone, wrong and wrong. Never knowing when to say when. Laying out my heart and hoping the best. Never seeing it coming, I couldn't even guess. And I cry. And I cry. I cry "No more, please no more"

Would it kill you if I left? Would it break your heart? Never coming back any more. And I close my eye, and wait for them to dry. Not wasting anymore on your love. Seeing how, I am with you. Makes it worse. Never knowing when to say when. Laying out my heart and hoping the best. Never seeing it coming, I couldn't even guess. And I cry. And I cry. I cry "No more please"

Blocked paths

I can't write! I can't think! I can not put the words to paper. My thoughts are jumbled and confused. They don't make sense of how I feel; I can see the images in my mind. I am lost and stumbling down a dark corridor. No illumination to give my path sight. No direction to give me redemption. Just the endless paths, crossing and wandering. No solutions in sight to give me hope. I feel lost and confused, no real release for my frustrations. The blocked paths that give me false hope, vexing me as I go on. Please send me a map of salvation to end my suffering.

Remember Me

Today I feel like I don't get to play
I am stuck inside, locked away
Like a rainy day, a lack of sun
Nobody thinks I'm a great deal of fun
So here I am, and here I be
Waiting for them to remember me

Removal of Winter

Bring me the rain. Pour it down on the Earth. I shall make the ground scream in agony from the floods. Removing your mantle bit by bit is my goal. Creating my own image from your harvest. I will let my cold warmth set your ices on fire. I will destroy your sanctuary of light and Winter as I make your icebound walls bend to my will. My Rein of Spring will conquer your limited time on this Earth, let my Season of Rebirth send your cold slumbers away. I shall prevail.