"There's a bit of magic in everything, and some loss to even things out." -Lou Reed
Showing posts with label free flowing words. Show all posts
Showing posts with label free flowing words. Show all posts

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Back to Me





Take the pain from my heart this night-
Let it be swept into the undercurrent that frightens me.
Bring it to the surface clean, another beginning--back to me...
Allowing me to forget the hours and time before.


Take this ache from my being-
In unnamed places, grief in flashes, that won’t solve mysteries;
The somber cloud that promised never to come--back to me...
Yet slithered through the inky black cracks of night to find me.


Return the things I gave away-
Too easily, too cheaply, at such a high cost.
Then, their honest value could never be returned--back to me…
Not in any way that resembled my true worth.


Lead me back to an unknown winter-
Snow so deep, the air so silent--small flakes dancing;
Promising the beauty in my beating heart--would always be mine…
No need to come back to me; just safe and warm in my unbroken soul.

ksg 

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Sunday, April 7, 2013

Half of My Sky



For so many years, its weight was all my own,
endless blue days and dreamy dark nights
all at my fingertips, and on my shoulders… alone.
Expanding out before me, above me,
bowed by the weight too heavy for me to bear.

Gray misty mornings I somehow pushed to rise,
through dewy tears of loneliness
and repeating, ever-changing seasons, 
but still...
it was all me, all mine, alone.

And then, half the weight lifted.

Your arms took half the gray days, half the cloud cover,
half the rumbling days of thunder, and thick storms.
Your heart brought more blue skies and
helped show me the best 
of the brighter seasons.

You are half of my sky-- holding it for me-
bearing more weight when I am weak, 
sharing the beauty when I am strong.
It is ours together, broad and wide, 
sheltering us, glimmering above us... ours together.

We have braved our own storms, and at times, 
our sky felt low and heavy, but it never fell.
We held it high enough …together.
We endured, saw the next sunny morning, 
felt the ocean’s spray, saw the other coast greet us.
We knew we were strong enough for anything.

We are.

You are half of my sky, holding half of my world above me, 
bright and blue, large and wonderful.

And in turn, I will always be half of your sky.
Through all of our days and nights,   
the blue skies, dark clouds, gray storms, and the sea of stars,
I will be here, holding my part,
my half...

with all of my heart.

 

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Thursday, January 12, 2012

All That Was Treasured


I fear fires, disasters, endings without goodbye-- the storms of the shore with wild, whipping winds, tearing at the screens of the windows that look into my world and all that is precious to me. I fear headlines telling a tragedy befalling us, when just yesterday we were so blissfully living, unaware of what was coming.

I want us to light on blades of grass like butterflies just outside our door- safe and normal, weightless and free, and then retreat back into this cocoon, this womb, that houses all that means anything to me.

I fear losing any part of it, watching him suffer, leaving him behind, or the heartbeat of our house gone silent. I tremble at the thought of any of those things, yet can't and don't keep the terrifying images at bay, instead inviting them in to fill the overly safe and secure parts of my mind and heart.

My body is unwell and imperfect, scarred and wracked with pain at alternate moments, and I am suddenly in a room surrounded by the smell of sick and loss, a room that has been mine so many times before- in all those cities when I was the deepest shade of alone. The same bright lamps and crinkling paper in lieu of bedsheets. Eyes peering into mine meant to cure, but instead judging my small complaints in the midst of the larger tragedy just down the hall. I will be back here again, alone, they think.

But, I am not. I am achingly comforted by the graces of love that surround me in dark chasms, sad memories, daily triumphs, and the lighting of birthday candles.

I am here among the living, finally, the white dress on sand, the veil aloft in the salt-kissed air, taking flight- the lift of Chagall's brushstrokes, a memory- my hand being held by his heart.

I am transported from one life to the next in the instant of a shutter click- the warmth of the camera's flash against splashes of sea foam after decades and decades of landlocked thirst.

So here we are and I tremble at night in fear of limited time, lost moments, taking for granted the scenery in between slow-cooked dinners and shared laughter. I fear regret for every misspoken word, or missed apology.

I see the world's pain, a new chapter each day, reduced to type-written words beneath a byline of someone who knows nothing but dates and times. Nothing of bonds and secrets and private languages of breathtaking fluency... all that is truly lost. It is a greater deep than all the ocean's measure, it is unspeakable, haunting, unimaginable.

I want to keep it all from our doorstep, from the moments he is in the car on the way to work and a siren seems in perfect unison with his route to safety.

I want guarantees, I want promised safety from a force bigger than me, bigger than us.

I want the assurance of more years here than back there. It is not an order we can place, choosing the span of years we will be given like wedding china patterns. No agreement can be drawn airtight to protect us, signed in blood with years of safe passage...a future of nothing unplanned or shocked with pain. Growing gray and wrinkled together is not a preference to select, just the silent hope of our vows.

And it makes it all more beautiful, more precious in the fragility that is the uncertain and unknown.

All I can do is breathe and sleep, and give love deeper than I did before I had these delicious moments, more than I loved even just yesterday.

Whatever is coming will come, in smoke and flames, forces of nature, the lottery of disease, or some other soul's greatest mistake.

And whenever the clock hands slow and halt for any part of what I have now, I will always have the moments before that, sandwiched between alone and now, deep in my heart and here on paper. All lovely, all precious and uncertain, broken and beautiful, until I too am just someone's memory- fleeting and perfect, finally safe and remembered- a part of all that was treasured.

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