Rainy Days

On my face there were Rain tracks instead of Tear tracks. An original happenstance.

Wore a coat without an umbrella. The rain soaked all around.

There was rain with patience. Not rain with rush.

The trap was with laughter. Not with trepidation.

A chance to recreate. Not run away.

Today light came from the clouds, not the sun. Deep reflection, instead of searing rays.

Smiles came from inside, not outside. Taking what's spiritual and making it physical.

There were unseen bells and the music came from the world, not the tower.

Reflection pools with sprinkled disruptions. Still saw everything.

Trees with rainbow leaves.

Leaves without rainbow trees.

Envelopes with stickers.

Branches made light and clean.

Keys without locks.

Bricks without mortar.

Eerie symbolism.

Love without fear.

The mud is thick

The mud is thick.
Like being dragged through frustration.
The rope burns your wrists where it makes contact with your soft skin.
The horses hooves are steady.
The ground is not.
There are Branches and pebbles.
Boulder and stumps.
In fact, patches where it is mud alone are a relief.

Every now and then there is a sharp turn.
You are whipped around and for a moment you are suspended in stillness.
But the moment passes and you are jarred back to this endless game of tug-of-war.
You've already lost, but your opponent doesn't care.
He keeps on running.
Faster and faster.
Harder and harder.
 
Then all of a sudden you stop.
You think that perhaps another turn is approaching and you brace for impact.
None comes.
In fact, you have been staring at this stretch of sky for so long that it becomes boring.
You attempt to sit up and your body protests.
As your head flops back down in the mud, you feel a cool darkness on your face.
You look up and see two eyes.
Then a hand reaches down to you.
It is such a foreign gesture that at first you reject it.
Then you realize that you are being greeted with a smile
And you reach up.

The hand is strong and pulls you into a sitting position.
Your wrists are still tied but the horse has stopped.
This traveler pulls out compassion and begins to scrub off grime with it.
They put on a salve of good listening.
They shield your heart with a hug.
They do not have to tell you they love you.
You know it.
And they know it.
They cannot take away the pain of this journey.
You know it.
And they know it.
 
But what you didn't know was that they could give you a priceless gift.
Not only a small relief from the torture,
But also a reminder.
This is not forever.
There will always be people who love you.
You are not looking forward to continuing the drag.
But you can now look forward to ending it.
Because up until this point you were not sure it would end.
But the reminder of a traveler keeps hope pumping through your veins.

January 2013

The Nightmare's Almost Over

You won't believe me.
So I won't tell you twice.
But take my word and hold it for a moment.

The scars should not surprise you.
You remember the wounds don't you?
The memory is not a physical barrier. So stop treating it like a hurdle.
It's a step.
In a winding, terrifying, assymetrical staircase.
Taking you higher.
Taking you farther.
You'll see more from the top. So let's get there before we look down.
You're not afraid of heights. So stop acting like it.

Take a deep breath through your heart.
It will fill with
Courage
Pride
Confidence.
You won't be afraid. So stop pretending like you are.
Because you will not fail.
These will sustain you.

But more than these, do not forget your guide.
He loves you.
You need him.
He's done it before.

April 2013

Little Lamb

Little Lamb lay down with me.

Here where we are both alone.

My hands are blistered and cracking and I'm sorry that they taint your soft wool.

Dad says that hard-working hands are pretty hands.

But in my hard work I forgot my Little Lamb.

I pushed, I swept, I ran, I carried, I cleaned, I studied.

But my Little Lamb went neglected.

You don't say much,

But I can feel you Little Lamb.

Your gentle nudges and your comforting closeness remind me of your love.

Oh why did I leave you alone?

You could've saved my hands and my heart.

If a lamb could smile I'm sure you do.

You understand.

Though I can't decipher how, you understand everything I feel.

You have been here before haven't you little lamb?

Your eyes know me.

And I know your eyes.

I'm sorry it took me so long to recognize.

Thank you Little Lamb.

Thank you Big Brother. 

July 2013

Out of the box

Would you know I had grown if you hadn't seen me as a baby?
How do you measure change?
We compare.
How do you measure love?
We contrast.
How do you measure a relationship?

It isn't fair.
It isn't fast.
We spend years developing these falsified, glorified relationships and judgements
Only to discover that we were looking at a baby picture.
The person we "know" is so much more than what we can see.
And so we have missed a life.
We have missed the bumps and the bruises
                                                         Attempts and the successes
                                                                                     Heartache and hardship.

We have missed what made this person.
We have boxed them up and set them aside.

December 2011

Hope

 Hope

Faith is like a seed,
But hope is like a weed.

It spreads to other gardens.
Spreading and growing, until

it encompasses all our thoughts.
It can control our actions,

forcing us to do the impossible.

It only leaves if you pluck it out,
but the good thing is...

Hope

can grow back.

January 2007