Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Writer's Digest/Hold My Hand--deVerse/The Journey

Hold My Hand
And I’ll hold yours’
Why so tight my Son
I won’t leave you
I am here

In thoughts we race back
Years back
When you and I were young
So much to learn for both of us
We thought it would be easy
And it was for a while

I was the one who cared for you
You explored the world
Of the neighborhood
Played in the dappled light
Of the yard
Fished and swam
Grew strong

As a young man
Just like the little birds in Spring
Your time came
You left the safety of the nest
Tried your wings
It was as it should be
I would not stand in the way
Of your journey

You came back home
After many adventures
Some good and some not
I was proud of the man you had become
The Prodigal Son
I was waiting and took your hand

Now you are gone
As it was to be
Written long ago
You followed your path
My hand is empty
My heart doesn’t seem to beat

Yet I hold the memory of you there              

August 17, 2014

____________________________
The Journey
The journey began
Years ago
You came to us

Golden hair
Eyes of blue
You looked into mine
And I looked into yours’
We didn’t know
What this would mean

Your care
Became my life
My only child
My one big prayer
You opened my eyes to see
You were my teacher

Always on the move
With your little black dog
Your image
Filled my heart
Always glad when
You were around

To the young man
You were
I said goodbye
More than once
As a Mother must do

This final time
Was the hardest of course
To say goodbye for the last time
Completely broke my heart
Today I do not know
If I will live again
I walk the journey
In the valley of darkness


August 17, 2014

Monday, September 15, 2014

August 15, 2014 Poetry Pantry/ The Light Returns

The Light Returns
This year
Summer has been dark
And I have wondered if
The light would ever return

In the morning
A new day begins
Sure as the tides
Calling the waters out to sea
And returning them
To crash into foam
On this ancient sandy shore


The sun rises
Above Taos Mountain
Sacred Mother
Overlooking the valley
Home of the people
Heart of the Universe
Light of the World
Now is the moment
The light returns
It is the autumn of the year


August 15, 2014

Note:  In Autumn much is dying away, in preparation for Winter, and regeneration; there will be new grown in Spring.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

August 13, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/University Medical Center



University Medical Center
Walking up to the hospital
The first time
My knees jello
Red roses bloomed along the sidewalk
The sky blue
The weather mild
In an unfamiliar town
The new center of my world
The short walk was uphill
Surrounded by tall buildings
I wasn’t sure
Didn’t know

I had spoken to the doctor
On the phone
His voice low
His words serious
I asked if he was eating
By the tone of his voice
I knew his condition was bad
He said no, not now
He has had a stroke
We are doing tests
We will know more soon

My blood ran cold
Through the years
I had worried about so many things
That might have happened
Yet never this one
I was at his bedside
I held his hand
Kissed him for the last time
Soon his life would be over
I would still be his Mom
He would be gone
It all passed so quickly
Someone told me
‘life is the hyphen between’
Birth and death

This day is grey
Tears slowly run down my cheeks
Hard to let go
Hard to believe the unbelievable
The blood of my heart is cold
Now is the winter of my life
I will live until I am alive again


August 13, 2014

Thursday, September 11, 2014

August 11, 2014 Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads/The Better Lie

Prompt:  Lie You Could have Told Better

The Better Lie
OK you asked
Yes it was a lie
Or at least the truth softened
I didn’t want to say
I didn’t want to meet with you because
‘You can’t paint’
So I tried to soften it a bit
And I said we are at different levels
I don’t want to go to great effort
To meet with people who are behind me

Of course it is just my opinion
Just because you have a brush
Some paint
A canvas
Does not mean you can paint
Or can call yourself an artist

You have to do the work first
Let it stand on its’ own
Before you can claim that title
Still you said you wished I had said
‘The drive was too far’
If only I knew I could have told a better lie

I could have said ‘I died’ or
I was going to be sick on the day we were scheduled to meet
I couldn’t find my keys
My car wouldn’t start on that day
Any number of big fat lies
Could have been better than the lie I told

To lie is not an art I have cultivated
I would only lie to save your feelings
Save your face
Save your life
Otherwise when you hear me speak
It will be the truth

August 11, 2014

Note:  Sometimes the truth is just too hard to say.

Andy Warhol said it best when he quipped: “Donʼt think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if itʼs good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.”