June 10, 2016 It Seems Normal

It Seems Normal

my life was simple                 it seemed normal                safe

secure                                     a child's life                    without expectations

the sun was bright        sparkled on the pieces of       glass scattered on the ground

where we played in the chicken yard                         at my aunt's farm

we shielded our eyes         with our small hands                 we played

sang                                    told stories                     up early to bed the same

my life complex             it seemed normal                    above my pay grade

too many questions     answers insufficient                  love grew in my heart

expending like a balloon    when it popped             the explosion was unexpected

tore my world apart

i always thought my life normal        and perhaps it is            some of it happy

some of it sad                  it started small                                 grew larger

more complex                  like the plant                    in the little shop of horrors

out of my control         now... it grows small again               it will get so small

it will disappear          knowing i did what i could          and all else won't matter

there will be no one left to care                     which seems normal

June 9, 2016

June 7, 2016 Poets United/ Grace -- dVerse -- the music in you

Grace

and what is it after all        what did i mean           when i asked for grace

was it grace in my presence     my movement        my being...

my acceptance of what is      or... what will be       am i talking about fate

or prayer...          and who will hear this prayer      who will listen

who shall answer         is there a god after all        ... perhaps it the universe

the universe that i see    the universe that sees me          when all hope is lost

and there are no easy answers    grace may be all that is left     to see us through

our spine to remain rigid     will not crumple in the hall     lost in our own sorrow

grace will point the way     stay together in our being         will not fall apart

look ok on the outside      movements refined       though we scream on the inside

still... we ask for grace     and like death                 our skirts gently brush the floor

heels clicking in the hall         they will look at each other        with knowing eyes

nod their heads and agree       it is grace after all                     when all else is lost

there it will be crushed into a crumpled ball               discarded upon the floor

waiting for you to reach for it    slip it over your head      smooth it upon your being

you are transformed           your prayers answered                    it is grace after all

June 7, 2016

Note:  I think it is one of the things my Mother gave to me.  No matter what, we agree the situation is bad, but grace will see us through.

Note:  I'm not sure it could be a song?  But I have been wanted to write about, "Grace."

June 5, 2026 The Sunday Whirl Wordle #253/ Time Passes -- Sunday's Whirligig #62 -- Poets United

Time Passes

time passes        with age i soften              so many times i have said...

oh, i couldn't stand this... or that      time passes            things happen

the child pouts    stomps away petulantly       as i am no longer a child

that is not an option      i take a stand                  hold firm

dig my toes into the sand                          each wave washes over me

unsteadies me             i feel each grain of sand                      alive

washed from under my feet       as the wave rolls back to sea        i get ready

                                                                                                for the next wave

as the wave reaches me                      i jump into the air laughing

time passes       my own mournful howls can be heard      no longer soft whispers

my spirit trampled           i am dreadfully lost                        i limp back to shore

holding on to all that is sacred        i glance around                  the world is smaller

the maps must be drawn anew        acquire a compass               locate a light house

a touchstone      a landmark                  the sound of the waves breaking split the air

crash onto shore     the sand is washed from under my feet        as the waves roll back 

                                                                                                                       to sea

time passes                        cover my mouth                                    silence the scream

does it come before or just after     cheeks flushed                         hazel eyes shut tight

these eyes are not my own       but your eyes sleeping now           to wake no more

the rest is deserved                    still                                             letting go is hard for me

the small boy that you were     the young man               the grandfather you will never be

each leaves a scar            a hole that cannot be filled                       no food can satisfy

i am less without you              many months pass                                  i soften with age

June 5, 2016

Note: Tomorrow will be the anniversary of my Son's death. In some ways it seems so long ago, and in others, only yesterday. It was not the last thing to happen, so many things continue to happen for each of us. Life has a way of continuing, ready or not. With each loss, I think I cannot continue to live...yet here I am, celebrating the life of my Son, my Nephew, my Mom and Dad, my Husband, friends.....it is said, “we cannot know joy without sorrow,” and sorrow comes to every life. It is up to us to know the blessing, even in sorrow.

June 2, 2016 dVerse/Bingo

Bingo

i suppose non of us are really young anymore              still it is hard to believe

you were the next chosen        the baby of the family       there are no answers 

                                                                                                  to the questions

of who is next                         who was first                                   or why

after all you had so much ahead     a young man so strong                 still a boy

chuckle as you left the room       a sparkle in your eyes          i remember you 

                                                                                                 as a small boy

so many of the characteristics still in tact                  you left this world too soon

the apple of your mother's eye       she held your hand                  never left you

                                                                                           to struggle on your own
                
you will be missed                   so handsome                                  sweet and kind          

it was your mother's fear                you would go too soon     one misstep

                                                                                              and down you would go                      

the story was written long ago     as it is for each of us        perhaps it is like bingo          

your grandmother's game            numbers are called               someone wins                          

we all exhale       soon the caller begins to call out the numbers again            we wait 

                                                                                    for the next number to be called

one day our numbers will be called       quietly we leave the room        did we win or lose

                                                                                    or is it just the nature of the game

June 2, 2016

June 1, 2016 Poets United Midweek Motif/ Adoption

Adoption

he is small              just a little tyke                          a snuggle bug

his parents aren't able to care for him       a sad story indeed

but other parents     who want him                          will love him

who can care for him      have stepped forward       will be his new parents

one of the most important undertakings of all times        it isn't perfect

but sometimes it is the best answer     they offer a sanctuary       safe haven

June 1, 2016

Note: It happened for us, and for my Husband, who was also adopted.