Tag Archive: damaged goods


Peaceful Walk


I went for a walk in the woods with my best friend… I loved all the beautiful colors and textures… I adored the almost blue gray of these.. the brown rings almost seemed like brass in the sunlight.

The pinks and greens in this one were so beautiful they looked painted on… especially when compared to the deep, glorious browns of the bark and the pine needles carpeting the forest floor.

The sunlight through the tops of this grass was beautiful, sparkled like starlight…

This perspective really speaks to me… Sometimes I just cannot see the sky because all my focus is on the thorns…

This Question Mark butterfly made my day! As soon as I saw them, my heart lit up… they were beautiful and so whimsical and felt like a kiss from heaven.

Going under this overpass was actually creepy, but I did adore this perspective of the columns…

And finally… I loved seeing these little footprints in the mud… Loved seeing them disappear into the woods and wished I could follow them… There was a kind of whisper to them… an invitation… and I love that feeling.


Deep in my soul hums

the song of night creatures…

How I had missed

their singing…

After so many years

of pain

of fear

I began to believe

this horrible

breath-holding silence

was all I would have…

their voices silenced

by a predator. 

I am not sure when

they began to sing again…

tentative notes of hope

springing forth…

now a near-constant

song of joy…

unafraid and alive

at last.

Symphony


There is a wistfulness

on the air

and the trees are dancing

to a symphony 

…unheard…

yet I feel the notes

thrum through my soul

and settle on my skin

like a lover’s touch

inviting me to dance…

to take his hand

and trust…

so now I dance…

one with clouds

with treetops

with birdsong

and falling stars.

I dance to the symphony

I now call

freedom.

The Weight


The dying light

all golden

turning trees

into shadows

wraps me in

a solmnenty

and I feel the weight

of the day

dropping down.

I feel the ripples

through my heart

pebbles in a pond

of memory

and I do not escape

unscathed.

December Grief


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?

Morning Battle


For one so at home in the dark,

I often awake to find myself tormented…

plagued, harried

Utterly broken and 

so. very. afraid.

Why is it so easy to breathe

At night, sitting alone in the dark

And in the early morning hours

Every breath is a 

Ragged gasp…

Fighting for air…?

Why, when I should feel uneasy

Sitting in the night air

Listening to the wind 

And the sounds from the city

Do I feel fearless?

Peaceful?

Yet in the breaking daylight

Peace gives way to 

Turmoil…and 

So much pain…

Every dark thought

Is a blade across my heart

Every shortcoming

A curse on my soul

And every tear shed

Feels like a shameful thing

Crying alone over coffee

Hating myself with a loathing

Beyond anything i have ever felt

For anyone else.

On Barrenness…


I am a genetic

Dead end

What have I to offer,

of life, of knowledge?

What wisdom

Would I impart?

Only this….

Love the dark.

Dance in the wind.

Savor the rain’s embrace…

Few are our days,

Deep is the night..

Dark – yet full of friends

If you allow yourself

A quiet mind.

The trees have secrets

To tell…. Listen

To their soughing, sighing, song…

If you allow yourself to hear…

You will find peace…

Childless, I may be

But this silence

Is not a curse…

Rather a backdrop

On which to paint

Understanding

And a special kind of 

Knowing

And being known…

By the dark

By the stars

By the cool night air…

All that is quiet 

In this loud world

I bequeath to you…

Childless though I may be…

That you may know

The pure, unadulterated joy

I have known….

Nights…

Alone in the dark…

unafraid…

Early Mornings


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…

Seduced by November


November wind,

you are my lover

teasing forth pink buds

and prickling my skin

with your cool caress…

Wringing from my lips

sighs of satisfaction

etched with

an aching longing.

Your invisible fingers

dance along my neck

and your soughing sigh

thrills me…

your voice my

private symphony…

I find myself

languid in your

cool embrace…. seduced,

aching and satisfied.

Haunted?


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.