new day

just before midnight the clock strikes new and another moment

the one right before the end

is born. 

full of opportunity and grace and hope 

that the day will not set with you stuck in it. 

just before morning the sun prepares to share it's glory

with the world

one more time and you see

in the grey

the moment born new

full of promise and openness and life

in the eyes of all who eagerly anticipate the

sun's arrival. 

just before the moment you loose hope. 

you have one more moment to regain 

your footing. 

your spirit.

 

the clock strikes. 

the sun rises.

new day again. 

thanks be to god.  

Still.

I miss you

More than I would think was possible

From our

Brief

Time

Together. 

I miss you

Still

And the moments it hits me

Raw

And bus crying is where your memories find me and my broken heart. 

Oh Simon, maybe my grief will push your healing

And I can once again experience a light like you brought into my life. 

Until then, I will probably miss you just as badly. 

This hole in a heart newly affected. 

If you could figure out

Why you're crying would it then justify?

If you could reason your emotions into the ground 

Would it by default make decisions for others as well?

If you could argue for the change you're embarking on in the darkness

Would the groves of the answers be lit for your eyes searching?

If you could make the past disappear 

Would you be who you are?

None of these are a solve. None of these enough to stop you from trying. 

Trying in the first place. 

The turnout is not the ambition after all, it seems. 

Education in living richly- to love!

Middle of the path

Wheelbarrows churn down into the groves

A path they know well

No surprises

At least they know they're in control of their burdens.

The road stretches before them

When

All of a sudden

Flowers!

Pop right up in front of the wheel. 

Screech to a halt 

Investigate 

Find delight, multiplicity and compliment

Waiting just inside the bunch.

Wheelbarrows squeak on again

This time, their attention on the flowers

Riding home. 

Rewards

When you are your very best and
The birds still
Squawk and chide
"It's not familiar enough! You're too hard for me to swallow whole! I can't digest you!"
Always choppy always complaining.
Those birds they judge from their perches
Even below you, in vulnerable places.

But no
they think they are the ones who have it
figured out, who know what they need
and that it's you
who is doing it wrong.
The birdseed scattered all around them
just waiting
to be
snatched up!but those blinders. They can't see
The bounty in opening up their world
To different
To beauty in dissimilar world views
To a seed of a thought of an action
That is bigger than what they know
Now.
Those birds,
They are everywhere. All kinds of people never knowing they're
Not only blind to beauty and newness
But missing
Out.

Connected again

As if my left arm was disconnected
To my shoulder
To my rib cage and subsequently
My heart.
It is back.
I am all back
Because this restoration of
Grace space and listening
Has given it room
to bloom
again.

As if I couldn't breathe fully before, or choose how to spend my time
Waiting for someone else to tell me
"Go ahead!", because they said so.

And as if that wasn't enough, after all these 29 years
I find out I do have what it takes
And I am enough
I am strong, alone in proclaiming
'I will stand up for me.'
Sometimes you have company but mostly not
And that beauty begets life to the fullest
Seems just when you don't
need
someone else, or fear a decision
Is when
you have all you
need
to give.

When my hands are swinging by my sides is just the right time, to be fully whole. And someone else wants to grab onto that train?
Well they better tell the conductor, because it's 'bout to leave your station.
Action, my friend!
Ain't for the weak hearted.

Map me

All these lines on my map
The writing so tiny from here
I can't quite see
What it
Says.
The shape so familiar, and home all over it
Memories etched that float to surface when I pause to think of
Car on pavement zipping
Windows down
Hair blowing
Music surrounding
Without and within
The Open Road!
It calls with abandon and I will quickly
Abandon whatever it is pattern has deemed more important than adventure.

For life awaits! It has been and I have tasted and the dots all over this map have been discovered to show me
More
Of myself
And the future unfolds with each smoothing of a crinkle
And my eyes they remember things they thirst to experience again and
My fingers can't contain their desire
To tap tap tap on a wheel
As I am held captive by these beautiful lands once more and
show my world
to the world
and learn that I know
nothing
Again.

Because the road is the map and the journey the ride
And my soul wants it all.
Here I am.