To have and to hold “will not last long”
-too messy too expectant they said
yet 41 promise years later,
we stand each whole and yet one.
Never really over,
the gospel of love embraced.
The time together traced in the lives of too many
but especially three
with days years or moments left to bloom.
In the cycle of death
beyond time and space
an essence of forever being
and my soul remembers why I am.
Photography thanks to Expose Nature @WordPress
She did not match the data presented
in hospital speak to a crowd of learners.
It was not so much a lie
as it was a revealing – a tale.
The well and the ill are stories
told from all sides of a hospital bed
in space and time
not captured in code and computer screens.
So let the record so reflect
the hurt and the heart of
beyond the numbering of days.
Photography thanks to Nick Van Zanten
Dreams and hopes light the path for tomorrow,
not rushing what can be done to win every now.
Time is never managed
but lived in random synchrony within a moment’s notice.
find my soul ready.
photography thanks to Charis Psallo @wordpress
Can you read without listening to the words?
Can you see without hearing thoughts?
Time to bow to the listening side of our hearts.
Image thanks to gacochran@wordpress
The beauty of a sunset along the Appalachian gaps
reminds me that I wish no one ill
Yet then its shining point annoys
and the glare strains my soul
“go hide in the valley and die out”
and in that breath
I have struck an edge
from life to death
Bags in hand
up front with doors shut
seated for the daily performance
among the hosted caravan
some more polite than others.
Mirrors shoulder high
from the corners reflecting
the auburn and pink rising
behind and brightly announcing
the commuting of the day.
Photo courtesy of Somber by Sunrise
Hearing something ahead
songs of those with voices only
nothing to touch though reaching deep
Fearing the fall
knowing nothing but the view
of love from inside out
in this place.
the wounding is the same
self inflicted in moments perceived through lenses lost in time
eternal scenes rehearsed to protect a shattered soul from love scorned
so taught by mothers and mother’s mothers until each is carried
Image courtesy of “Franziska/ Whataboutawaterbottle”