I live my life through the words I write
Heat growing, building,
turning a darker, deeper shade of red
with each passing minute.
Transferring,
separating particles from each other.
Expanding,
until there is nowhere else
for the steam to go
but up
and out.
Eventually
the same will happen to me
as it has before.
With no where to go
but up, and out,
my lid will rattle
and bounce around
making music.
A new color
rooted in natural with a new
hue of freshness.
Fresh ends cut
to absorb the new life around them,
time to start anew.
Sometimes the things little
expand into vast valleys
calling out for explorers
to test the new terrain.
I dreamt of you last night
or at least
I thought it was you.
Different than I remembered;
different beginning
different ending
different us.
Ah, what might have been
and what will never be.
Four years ago you left us
to find a brand new home,
among the sunshine, cloud and blue;
time to venture out on your own.
Four years ago you left us
I remember it like yesterday,
away from home, I got the call
that you had passed away.
Four years ago you left us
I remember our last hug,
your strong arms and deep voice both still there
that today, still run through my blood.
Four years ago you left us
on all of us, it’s been hard.
You live on and strong, now and forever;
in peppermints, baseball or a playing card.
Four years ago you left us
I still wish it wasn’t so.
But I dream of seeing you again someday
and into your arms I will go.
Light me up,
now,
like the flame instantly flaring
upon the wooden match
scratched and dragged across
the igniter.
Make friction.
Scratch me, drag me and
light me up.
I want to burn.
Watch me burn.
My, what these hands have touched,
carried
and blockaded,
held
and transformed,
prepared to hoist my body
upright off from off the floor
or raise up while my head lowers
in humility,
hold your hand, touch your face
feel your heart beat
for me, or so I thought.
They feel weathered, yet strong,
predicting the forecasted weather
ready to protect me.
I look down to admire
the scars, calluses and salted stains
that you helped to put there
and I thank you
for my hands are now ready
for any battle.
May you find souls
whose hearts beat like yours
and enable
your soul to grow deeper
your heart to expand wider
and
your love to extend back
down into yourself.
May you find those souls
and hold on to them forever.
Sometimes
I lay awake at night thinking of you.
Where you are
Who you are with
What occupies you at this moment
What you are thinking about.
Someone once told me
that in psychology
to have a dream about someone
means they
are thinking of you
and long for you.
I wonder if you feel this
feel me
thinking about you,
if you have dreams about me
like I am trying to make you do.
Fight me.
I need you to fight me.
Bulldoze down my walls,
tell me how I’m wrong and
show me how I’m wrong
stab me with the truth,
make sure I have a long way to fall.
I need that
a strong slap in the face
a bucket of cold water over my head
a violent shake for me to leave my head
and see the reality from your view.
Unleash on me
whatever method necessary
to penetrate my thick skull
remove the rotting roots
and plant a new seed.
Fight me.
Counter-intuitive, it is,
to invest in self expression and breaking free
but
cower away from doing so
with people I am supposed to trust.
Maybe I’m not healed after all.
Dawning Words 