Little One

Dear little one

I haven’t met you yet

I admit I wonder if I ever will

And if I do who will you be?

Will you love me with all of my flaws

Will I do right, and say right, and be enough to guide you?

Will I protect you enough, without sheltering you too much?

Will you become a gentle breeze or will you go through life like me…a storm?

Life can be lonely for storms

And how I wish for you a life that is full

No

Overflowing

With joy and soft sweet days

But I know no human

Walks their path

Without wandering the winding ways

So dear little one

Whoever you may be

I hope you know I have loved you

From the moment you became you to me

And I will love you even

When you become who you are

Even if it means loving you from afar

Serenity

Rage and Sorrow built a house together.

Rage laid the bricks cracked but straight

Sorrow built the walls tall but warped.

Together they built their home,

Hoping only to avoid the turbulent weather.

But the storms followed them in,

As they opened the door.

The wind pounded the walls,

The rain soaked the floor.

So Rage built the stones thicker,

He used pain as the mortar.

Sorrow built the walls higher,

She sealed the joints with Rage’s mortar.

Together they built a hearth,

They stoked a small fire and called it Hope.

Hope dried the floors,

And kept the storms from rattling the doors.

On sunny days Sorrow would open the shutters,

Rage would laugh and say they didn’t need Hope anymore.

But in the nights Sorrow fed Hope,

With the broken pieces of her dreams.

Rage also stoked Hope secretly,

With the tatters of hate he had saved.

When the storms came again,

The wind howled,

The rain screamed,

Rage and Sorrow felt their foundations shake,

The walls rattled, but did not break.

They both fed Hope and kept it ablaze,

Through the dark nights and stormy days.

Soon they had no loss to feed Hope with,

They found coals smothered in the ashes,

Of all they had fed the flames.

So together they cleaned away the debris,

Used the coals to stoke new life,

And called the new blaze Serenity.

Made to be

“You can’t be mad at a stone, for being a stone!” I laughed.

While you sat there, frowning

Because it wasn’t the right hue

You didn’t understand the fissures

The clarity wasn’t true.

But while I spoke those words to you

I spoke them to myself, too.

You can’t blame the wind for blowing

The rain for its wetness

The flame for her heat.

I cannot blame my body for being a body

I cannot blame my mind for where she wanders

I cannot blame a thing

For being truly

And unequivocally

That which it was made to be.

Breathe

Dark and soft and deep

Your hugs are an ancient hardwood forest.

They consume me.

Surround me.

Soothe me.

Dark and soft and deep

Your arms fold me into you

And you inahle

I inhale

We exhale.

Dark and soft and deep

That is where our souls meet.

Where were you?

“Where have you been all of my life?”

“Getting ready for you.”

His words remind me

That without each step

Without the rainy days

Or sun filled days

I would not be me

Nor would he.

Our edges were ground down

We were broken repeatedly

So that we fit together

Him

And me

Perfectly.

Whatever you’d like

You can call me whatever you’d like

“Babe”

“Honey”

I’ll even accept some “sugar pie”

Just as long as when you say it

You have that sparkle in your eye.

Healers

Let me tell you something.

Healers? They never get the glory. No songs are sung about them. No great victories give tribute to them.

Darling, you could stitch up the wounds of a nation, and they would laude the needle maybe….or perhaps the thread. But not the delicate mortal hands that can keep the living from the dead.

You can nurse the injured, sick, and poor. Heal every downtrodden plant…animal…or person…who casts a shadow at your door. You could give of yourself until there is little…or nothing more.

But healers never get the glory. Though you are needed now more than ever before.

Choice

I don’t know if you are my soul mate.

I am unsure if you are what fate destined for me,

Or if you were written in my stars.

But I know that you are the one I chose.

You are the one who I have handed my heart.

My dreams.

My life.

I don’t know if you are my soulmate.

But you are the one I choose,

Each morning and each night.

Stars

You drew me in

It was something in your quiet

Something in the currents that seethed

Underneath the stillness.

From a lifetime away

I felt the gravity of you

Pulling on the very fibers of me.

Was it always you?

Around the endless wheel of time

Is it always you?

You who chases me

Across the wilderness of life?

You who soothes me

Through these many sleepless nights?

Can it be that

You, who comes from

A very different star

Might be from

the same star

As I am?

Short fat problems

I often wonder if

I am alone

Or if

By some chance there

Might be others

Out there

Who are vertically challenged

And horizontally, too

And who

When told they’re small

By some giant

Feel indignation

Or maybe some confusion

After acclimitizing to

The thought

That they are a behemoth

Among small and

Pretty things.

Or when told by

Some well meaning

Sales lady

That they don’t make

Pants short enough

For you

Or wide enough for

Your very wide

Thunder thighs

Are inspired by the

Most passionate frustration

And leave.

We are the bulls

In life’s china-shop

But we are enough.