i came.
i went.
consider
the quivering soul…
it takes
strength to move forward
the memories pour in
the excitement wears off…
especially then
i saw.
Tag: sorrow
alone.
you birth words
in my heart
excite nerve endings
as no one else can
and to be without
will only pain. forever.
relief.
Time, a trusted friend, teaches those mourning, to question and speak out loud. Over and over, Time welcomes Guilt, Anger, and Despair.
Yet, suicide survivors cannot begin to understand… how will peace ever exist in this chaos? Just one word, thought or picture, sends us in a spiral. Those days become wrapped in Sorrow. Then Relief appears. Days saunter on and we learn progress takes small steps.
Our eyes lift and grow wide… a visit. Time, our best friend. Patiently, Time sits, listens for a while. I let Time’s silence be silent, until i can hold it in no longer! I pray to release chains… memories have become a prison. My wishes, a disease. Confusion sets in.
Time please forgive and pardon this aching soul. I beg Relief to visit. A stranger far too long.
💜j
Strong Enough to Cry
“Most of us, I believe, admire strength. It’s something we tend to respect in others, desire for ourselves, and wish for our children. Sometimes, though, I wonder if we confuse strength and other words–like aggression and even violence. Real strength is neither male nor female; but is, quite simply, one of the finest characteristics that any human being can possess.”
–Fred Rogers
he promised to carry her
slouched in thoughts
heavy
was more
than he bargained for
he turned for the door
her arms outstretched
no stranger from begging
strength of tears
began to pour
In all of life, he sought to do the honorable thing. Stretched between love for his daughter and pleasing his wife, he felt to abandon his reputation. The daughter forsaken, left alone on the streets. Tears turned to rocks, thrown at her feet.
devil in the details
all these thoughts
pouring down
welcome prayers;
the slowing
of my heart,
catching my breath.
i remain hidden
in a catatonic state
realizing opening sin
and boxed memories
rips the curtains
leaving the soul scorched.
Then
Poetry is the very breath of God. In His Words He spoke life into being.
Deep inside each of us something speaks. Listen. Believe.
I rock back and forth in life’s womb
hiding behind lie’s pain.
Love masked by passing shadows.
The home’s walls unstable
I need to find me,
the sky’s clouds, the dirt’s grass.
Anxiety is sorrow’s prison.
Discover life’s joy.
Learn to handle grace in God’s arms.
Connections
Wretched days and shameful nights
forgiveness alludes
the family whose wounds
speak to a weary clouded sky.
Child accused for all the wrong
with dad and mom and home
not acknowledging the aching
lips she keeps shut tight.
Oh save us, the child cries
scared to move at night
the beasts in the window
screaming a great fright.
No one comes to save
images prepare to fade
if only the day would
send some grace for these endless wretched ways.
seasons: a poetic journey 