Pressured

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Not just frayed but edges pressed

pulled away with time

in pieces laid open.

Broken bloodlines crushed

still reaching for daylight

heart in hand

in love-seasoned life. 

 

Photography courtesy of Guldman “TheGolden Hour” wordpress.com

 

 

 

 

 

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Lock the door on your way out….

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I always remember my dreams. They reset and reframe the truth lying just underneath my daily life and struggles.

In anticipation of 2017, my sleep brought the terror of a whirlwind. Being swept away by the forces of nature, I woke distressed to say the least. This unsettled mood lasted through the last day of 2016.

I woke this am, however, on a journey abroad in the company of family and strangers . I was advising others on how to pack but also reorganizing my own bag.

Perhaps I am ready to move on.

Lock the door on your way out.

Daughters Sad Goodbye

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His poverty of love betrayed every effort

and he settled for survival-

afraid even of comfort

a man alone in a mind framed by fear.

His death came as could be expected-

outside, nature fallen.

Along his years-

he was loved without knowing how to love, 

embraced not knowing how to hold, 

home not knowing how to father.

Yet in this moment, in this breath

he is today beloved.

 

photography courtesy of Sarah Vaughn

Birth of day #57

p1000007A year of days learning framed love circling hate

   disease stuck and captured

   with thoughts small and great.

Weeds purple miles traveled on mondays commute

     pressed edges of asphalt

     by wild flowered fruit.

Yet not many linger so driven so straight

    bound to mark souls

    captured and saved.

I wake now to birth from life to my life

    from breath to a death

    grace sun-kissed in now.