Let’s Dance

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They call it a march for  a reason. A military maneuver really. 

I am not inclined to walk in such a way.

But I would like to stand gracefully aware in defiance of a body politic. 

In truth, I prefer to dance.

Moving in rhythm with cycles, life cycles–Unashamed and unharmed. 

I prefer to dance.

Leaping with full turns, legs stronger than his arms.

I prefer to dance.

Stepping high above the platforms built by sad battles. 

I prefer to dance and be captured in full swing by the pulse of divine love.

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

Reconciliation

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The story deep in the marrow of my life betrays the simple touch of air to skin. Blood-spilt memories lay unheard, unknown but pulse with my breath and soul.

The stains of love and hate look the same in me and equally reflect the tragedy of my fears-

and I pray for reconciliation.

 

Photography courtesy of Ginny Hunt

Sick unto death

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It’s a damning process storing every thought , worry

tucked unfolded mostly

so the space feels empty, sterile to the curious.

No presence or joy

broken soul alone

though an open door of life nurtured love. 

No space for love or hate-tucked unfolded mostly,

muted and muffled by an unnatural shhhh…

 

Photo by Steve Garrington

Secret Pain

 

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Life lived slow mid thorns of fear, wounded weighted low,

Memories lost of journeys free before this path, this NO.

Gone the days of wonder’s laugh choked out by touching hurt.

Yet undeceived can eyes still see such beauty bright unthroned?

 Yes! seize and strain the light until with hope you can release

the tears flow down like rain

and grow the heart beyond this place.

For there the quiet secret pain remains embraced and thus refined,

breathed within a lover’s kiss,  a holy space divine.

Photography: eternitysphotography/wordpress.

Love’s silence

What I hear is an option. Even in choosing silence- I can hear. I listen….

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Sound is a space of being

Sound is a link to a moment in time.

It is tangible, functional, inviting.

As I separate the tones and attend to one over the other I learn and feel and know a new old something.

As the layers stream into my consciousness

I am reminded

I am comforted

I am loved.