The light of January
caresses my skin
warming me –
despite the bite
of the wind…
There is a hope in my heart
I hardly know how to navigate.
A loss I feel
but do not kneel to…
I will not be cowed
by grief –
will not bow to it…
I will, instead,
hold fast to the hope
brought by January sunlight…
a newness in the day
unshackled by old regrets…
untainted by this
old grief.
Alive.
I shout into the wind
the full volume of my pain
and listen for the answer
echoing back at me in silence…
my hands fisted at my side,
my soul reaching for hope.
Even on the most hope-
less days, the night wind
comforts, loves, caresses my side
and gently lifts my pain
offering me peace, silence
and hints at the answer
I have been searching for…answers
to my desperation…this subtle hope
sings to me in this silence,
accompanied by the whispering wind…
the balm to my soul’s pain..
wind’s fingers tracing the inside
of my open collar, along the side
of my neck. What if the answer
to happiness, is embracing the pain?
Could that be our hope?
Pain danced away in the wind,
twirling in the dark silence?
Slowly the raging cacophony falls silent
and peace settles gently inside.
My mind still on the wind’s
Embrace, no longer looking for an answer
just awash in that elusive hope…
for the moment, a reprieve from pain.
I look into the eyes of pain
reflected in my mirror… silence
all around me… hope
slowly growing deep inside.
Questions forgotten, unanswered
for the moment, healed by the wind.
Despite the pain always inside
Despite the silence, years with no answer
I will forever find hope, waiting on the wind.
December has a
Sense of urgency…
Days flowing too fast
And I can’t find my footing…
Stumbling over these rocks
Of grief,
And falling down hard –
Body battered
Soul crying out for help
To an empty room
The wall’s silence
Screaming back at me…
Needles of that empty echo
Piercing my heart….
What is one more wound?
Watching the rain
Stream past the balcony
Dripping from
Lampposts
Below me…
I feel the absence
Of you
And I embrace
This peace..
No slamming doors
Or breaking dishes…
No raised voices
Or near *constant* weight
Of disappointment
…never enough…
…always too much…
I feel another wound
Stitched closed
By glimmering
Threads of rain
Under a cold
Gray sky
Another layer of fear
Washed away in the storm.
I sat tonight
Reading Frost
By the dim light
The taste of cranberry
Across my tongue
As I sipped my drink.
The cold November wind
Biting my neck and
Blowing my hair
In my face.
The soaring voice
Of a violin in my ears…
In this moment…
Content…
To let my spirit
Soar and plummet
With the notes,
Sad when the music fades…
Buoyed again
When mesmerized by
The dance of the trees…
The wind their
Loving partner.
I tried to read
The greats tonight
Leonard, Angelou,
Poe, Frost…
But it is my own voice
Too loud in my ear
That sets me
Quivering –
With loss, pain,
With fear remembered
And love…lost…
I tried to smile
Around this ache in my chest,
but each one
Shattered
Hurting my face.
The clouds are moving
Too fast tonight
Ghosts against
A black sky…
And the breeze
Doesn’t invite
Doesn’t caress…
Instead… alienates.
There is a wrongness
And I feel
Cornered
Not romanced –
Caged…silenced…
Grief-choked.
No song tonight
On the symphony
Of wind
Notes all soured
By this aching
…this pain…
This ground under
Boot-heel feeling
…abandoned…
Alone in the dark.
Languid, half asleep, in morning hours
I hear your voice…
Half-finished conversations
rushed conclusions
hasty goodbyes…
And I turn over …
again, searching for sleep –
wondering where dreams begin
only to end again… and why.
Thoughts blow like November winds
through my mind
prickling my skin
and bidding me dig deeper
into the covers to seek
my comfort there…
to find surcease from the black
loneliness that sometimes
threatens in the early morning hours
absent your voice…
I am treading water here..
riding the black waves of fear
and despair, trying
not to drown, but
to rise up on that current
and find my hope
my center
my self
and SWIM…
One day I will
hear a noise in the
dark and will not fear…
will not stop
*breathing*
to listen for
his footsteps…
but will, instead
pause, to hear
your voice calm me…
and listen for your lullaby..
my November wind…
whistling past the window…
lulling me to sleep…
I still feel the
absence of that
small gold band
missing from my
finger – yet the
weight of it
is so heavy
carried in
my heart.
I am drowning in
the dreams I once
held dear. Hope
of happiness and
passion and a family
unbreakable… immutable…
yet… now utterly broken
shattered beyond
any hope, any trust
any love…
I have no hope
of you anymore…
This weight on my finger…
the absence of you..
now it feels like
freedom.
The darkness of the
shadowed wood
calls to me…
my will-o-the-wisp..
drawing me out…
drawing me in…
I hear your voice
there…beckoning me…
Step deeper.
Go further.
Come to me…
and step by step
I comply…
somnambulant
in my capitulation
yet… somehow
willing
to walk into the dark
-unafraid.
captivatingbitter 