Deemed Useless- Hiabun

To be left here, alone with thoughts, is a risk submitted to, but then doubt creeps in around me and one ponders if there is strength enough.

Yet, it is true. We’re made to endure.

Who do I think I am? Why do I think I matter? When did I decide I was more important than another?

To see beyond myself in order to rest my mind onto what will probably occur, is torture, I think. Why would I force myself into a mess before it’s time? Am I looking to intercede, possibly control or even wish the reality of the situation away?

No. I can’t imagine a life without.

What I need feels right inside. Am I wrong?

To want with all one could muster, yet sense it may never be, confines me.

I sense myself becoming that guarded individual I know all too well. Disappointment teaches and somehow I need to figure out how to grow.

Again.

To be open to the plan waiting for me.

I willingly prepare for my days ahead, and begin listening to words I’ve felt over and over recently.

Put this dream away. There isn’t an answer.

marked dismissed

sojourner living inside

redundancy evident

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From A Distance

cool wind drapes my shoulders,
as thoughts ride tides too high
for a woman like me.
unable to reach, nor smell the
scent of a life,
only read about
through my hazel eyes
obsessing.

no voice brave enough inside
to share what I need,
see
even dream,
proves leaning on another to name
the clouds above me is selfish.

and the sounds of morning continue,
breezes swirl, leaves fluttering
against each other,
while ignited rain clouds grumble
along side today’s dawning.
grateful for the noise,
which drowns, for another day,
my inability
to offer what builds
inside of me, hoping no one
notices the girl hiding.

Chasing Away Melancholy

I watch the doves dip and weave
Chasing one another,
Yet I grieve

For a life I’ve dreamt about
Since I was a child,
In a grey, aging, house

There were giggles
And four children the cause,
Despite their loss

Of the everyday normalcy
Of Mom being near,
Nothing making sense, life unclear

If love exists, breathes, you say
Will it fulfill my wish,
Not run – at the top of my list

So sovereign Cardinals in my view
Standing watch, yearning
Might keep me from melancholy.

Sleepless

A quick update.

I’m here when I want be sleeping like the women I envy, even though I know desire gets me nowhere.

I envy her the quiets breaths her He would listen for, as He watched making sure bad dreams didn’t interrupt the peaceful place He’d prepared.

Suppose she offers him the same sanctuary. I hope so.

Anyway, just wanted y’all to know why I’m in and out of WordPress. My father begins a new treatment for a whole new set of distractions.

I can’t be with him like I want to be, because of the responsibilities I have for my own little family. Dad understands and has my middle and baby sisters with him this month. However, you guys know I am unsettled with the arrangement.

I have moments where I feel like my best isn’t enough.

When I fail at being human and not fighting for what I need.

What does obtaining get us?

Maybe as we are is best.

We understand this as we are space. It seems to work. It isn’t ideal, but our needs are met, if they weren’t we would change.

Or would we?

Fear is a real emotion. It isn’t intended for us, but we let it in. We grasp fear thinking we can somehow live together.

We can’t. Not truly.

Embracing love or accepting fear is the choice we’re given.

Love and fear don’t really work together.

Breath Of A Poetess

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The calmness I inhibit,
Not created by waves,
Of a tattered windsock.
Sounds of the flapping,
And the eventual snap,
Correcting all my doubts.
But the gentle wearing,
Of a used open flag,
As it slides about.
Caressing and whispering,
Mirth,
A moment of unnerving.
While I submit,
Into wonderment,
Of love and longevity.
The fraying, I cling to,
Wondering,
Am I enough.

Miracles

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As if my clouds had warned specifically
Life does not end in a single breath
Have faith in Him and honor His test
Sit still, believe miracles happen daily

***
Update on Dad:

Initially, Dad refused treatment, further testing and our pleading words. The idea of him not taking the opportunity to try medical advancement was devastating news. Who makes that choice? A stubborn cowboy who doesn’t believe in doctors, I guess, maybe, someone unsure of what the fight will look like, and I can easily identify with that fear.

Eventually, Dad agreed to take the next step and was transferred to another hospital in Denver. I like to think he knew how much his refusal of treatment was affecting us and wanted to ease our pain, but I believe the support of my three siblings being with him through each step gave him the confidence to move forward. I understand, there’s a process that goes along with hearing such terrifying news. We tried to be patient.

Dad is surprisingly well, and it has been determined that he has less than Stage 1 Lukhemia.  His body has reacted to the initial procedures and medication and the blood results are amazing.  They are recommending that he do six months of chemo just to be sure all has been eliminated. Dad has agreed to do chemo twice a month and it’s a very low dose of treatment. This means no loss of hair or sickness, so business as usual for him, eventually.

Dad is home from the hospital and the pneumonia that put him there, due to low immunity, is under control. Had he not come down with pneumonia we would’ve gone much longer without knowing that he had Lukhemia, as it had been just short of 50 years since he’d seen a doctor for anything. Early detection saved his life. Our family is blessed.

So now…me and why I haven’t been around or writing. The highs and lows of it all had me so confused. I roll my eyes at myself, as I consider Dad’s emotions. I think shifting from horrid news to elation so quickly had me shocked.  Frozen, even. I took a few days to sort my feelings. How does this happen? Who cheats cancer like this? A blessing I cannot even wrap my head around, yet I know it is all God’s doing. Prayers were answered. We continue to pray that the chemo rids his body of anything that remains.

I think I’m back…maybe. Smiles.

The support I’ve received from y’all is humbling. Last week’s poetry was full of beautiful and loving comments and I thank you. Your emails proving your devotion continue to make me smile. Thank you…

The Greatest Man poem was the first poem I wrote after getting the call from my sister last Friday afternoon. It is now one of my personal favorites, as my Dad has proven to me that he continues to be my hero. I’m thankful that he realizes how much I do need him and how relieved we are that he is willing to fight cancer for himself and his family.

The Giggling Siblings poem was the night before some major tests. (defining the stage) I love looking back at that snapshot of our family pulling together and smiling. (Even if they were making fun of me…) All of us fearful of the news we’d eventually receive as the results came through in the days to follow, yet calmly waiting and diverting that fear with some giggling.

The result is a stronger bond, which none of us thought possible, as we’re already each other’s best friends. Maybe now, however, Dad understands how deep our love for him goes.

 

Giggling Siblings

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A photo received this evening
Via Assholes, it seems
Giggle worthy, I believe
Siblings, teasing me
Oldest Sister always clouding
Viewing and capturing daily
Poetic puffs of creativity
Eleven floors up, they see
A spectacular moon beaming
Redheaded Sister will envy
A moon over the Rockies
Pay no mind to the glaring
It’s sparkling somewhere brightly
None of us can accept or believe
Our father has Cancer, weeping
But humor’s alive and well, Roomies
Oldest Sister is finally, giggling
Hospitals can be so very boring
Tease Dad for flirting with Nurse “Nelly”
And let this Cloud Poetess be
*wink*

*****

Yes, we received the worst news this weekend. Dad has Lukhemia. We’re all shocked and terrified, but he finally agreed to attempt treatment. Praising God this evening. My three siblings are with him in Denver and I’m in Houston. What a bummer. I am staying positive. I have to, you know.

In true family style…we try to keep smiling. I love you Big Brother, Middle and Baby with all my heart. Love this Father of ours so very much, however, the next time I see you guys I’m gonna kick your asses. I cannot believe y’all sit around and make fun of my cloud pictures!! How rude! 😉 😉 😉 Man, do I love you!! *giggles*

(Yes, my first reaction was to reply by calling them Assholes, so I did. They pissed themselves laughing. ..I do not apologize.  Haha!)

Oh, and a few more pictures they sent me this weekend. For your viewing pleasure:

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They literally have laughed me to scorn! 🙂
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This is complete cloud coverage, y’all. (See, I’m completely justified in calling them assholes, I think.) 😀

Raindrops Have Names

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The dark clouds were here when I woke up this morning. The pinging sound on the window panes, as each raindrop hits, beckons me. Raindrops knocking at my soul. Reflective puddles growing in size right outside, so similar to what needs to be accomplished in myself today. The rain is taking the lead and nourishing everything green, and me. The scene has been set. The rain arriving today, of all days, is poetic comedy. A satire, it seems. It sums me up perfectly, don’t you agree? Oh, how I love a double entendre.

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