you would know I’ve sat within the thrush of nature
my soul is joyous there.
this cool fall evening offers a melody and my mind plunges into creative fidgeting.
my eyes wander from hues of verdant to hints of Autumn’s tangerine,
but it’s the obvious sounds of industry
that bring you closer to me.
Milestones met
at the start of the sun,
give it two years,
the daily will be done,
and then
what?
my attraction to hard, born through a lost memory,
existed,
created who I am.
an unusual warmth from the simplest of minerals I’ve grown accustomed to, need
and cannot explain.
I greet them, inspect
place them in my hand
and slowly they enter,
my pocket. Mine. My anchor.
each time I revisit the Rockies
the desire arouses
matures, alters in strength,
becomes habitual.
these rocks, their immensity
I want to claim as my own,
every year unwilling to ask
I leave, unbecoming.
*What I Would Have Shown You
summer view for sale
passing through nowadays
golden hues melting
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
I’ve found myself in a state of reflection, yet again. Yes. I know. Do I ever move forward? We’ll see.
Usually.
Whispers in the depth of night
Whites of our eyes shining bright
Lips in movement
Words offer our reality
Conversing in shallow tunes
Touch, leaning into the heat of you
Expressing thoughts; gift to thee
Without fear, fate leads the he and she of our bonding.
When did my confidence go to battle with my insecurities?
Why are they winning?
I know better.
I am better.
I will continue to thrive.
Go. It’s been done before,
I survived.
I would again.
Throwing a temper tantrum would never work.
Waiting patiently gets me nowhere.
Being my quiet self is far too dull.
All that is left is to use my voice, yet, the quiver I hear isn’t very convincing as I try.
Fearing judgment may keep me from the happiness I know I deserve.
Wanting to be a playground, but instead I’ve become too common.
Take what is yours, these words I hear constantly in my head, I used to believe they were meant for me to say to the one who truly wanted me.
Maybe it’s what I’m supposed to do.
Huh, it goes against who I believe I am, but being left alone is too.
too average
too independent
too quiet
too far away
too serious
too cliche
too normal
too she’ll be okay
he shows me beauty
concerned with
acceptance
knows I like pretty
unaware of his own brilliance
music to dance to
and a faith reaching
distance
and he’s meant for someone else,
my fear
This afternoon I drove for awhile, after work, before turning around and heading home. You see, it’s not a far drive from one to the other and I needed to think, so off I traveled.
The last few weeks have had me considering the idea of closing my site down.
Wondering if maybe its time to move on and away from poetry.
I fall hard
but this is what I do.
I imagine long walks,
you pointing out the vision
I see as reality,
but this is what I do.
I picture myself as a flower,
each petal adored, even
in her simplicity,
but this is what I do.
The vast Midwestern skyline
of Nebraska takes me to
where you are daily, and I pray
but this is what I do.
I wander inside of a daydream
where we exist as one,
but this is what I do.
There
Isn’t
Anything
To
Wait
For.
This is it, and so is now
And now,
Now
Now
Now
Now,
Yep, and now.
You get the idea.
there – the whisper
calling her name
there is the silence,
no need to explain.
there’s the faith
she felt deep inside
there is the answer,
she knew she’d find.
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.
my question begs, how do I remain,
remain without wanting to compete
compete for your attention
attention you offer willingly
willingly, but at what cost
cost may be greater
greater than you realize
realize first, I’m in love
love, found adamant in a terra-cotta sky
*Loop Poem
powdered sugar spring
covering sprouts emerging
blanketed with hope
Not your fault, I often question
Not your fault, I’m broken
Not your fault, you couldn’t ever understand my uncertainty.
Not your fault, my trust is hard to gain.
Not your fault, when often I’m distant or confused,
Not your fault, my conversation skills.
Not your fault, I’m used to my own silence
Not your fault, I don’t know which way to turn
Not your fault, I can’t process receiving concern
Not your fault, I discipline myself
Not your fault, I stay in control
Not your fault, I’m a soft shouldered girl.
Not your fault, I can’t talk
Not your fault, I come from two parents who were lost
Not your fault, I need so much
Not your fault, I feel less than
Not your fault, I can’t make it easy,
Not your fault, you deserve a Queen
