The grass, and lawns,
once dry and brown and crunchy
come alive again
in harmonies of green and softness
after a long, gentle summer rain.
Before and after.
Before I met you
and after I met you –
two completely different people.
Tag: poetry
broken systems
I think
I hope
people are starting to see
how we, our systems,
were broken
and we had no idea
how bad they were broken
until one thing happened
and another
and another
until we’re standing in the rubble
realizing
we need to build a new way
out of this.
people come and go
My world has been turned
upside down because of you,
when you first entered it
and now, as you’re leaving.
I feel the ground crumble beneath my feet,
what I believed to be long-lasting
is not.
People come and people go,
including you.
I will join you in your excitement
and hold no resentment,
but this place will not be the same without you.
I will find a new way forward
though I don’t want to.
The sky dances and screams
The sky dances and screams
with lightning and thunder,
muffled by the houses and trees
I can only make out bits and pieces,
not her whole story.
Feel her anguish,
admire her vulnerability,
wait until she has said all she needs to say.
Show your own vulnerability,
come out from behind your protective walls
to meet her,
listen to her, comfort her.
I have been where you are
and I am here for you.
Scream, cry, punch,
let it all out.
I will still be here
when you start to feel better
and the storm begins to pass.
cold but clean
I can feel you here
in the strong gusts of wind
that wash over me like a tidal wave
and move under my clothes,
against my skin,
and leave me feeling cold
but clean.
real to you
Even things that aren’t real can be real,
as long as they’re real to you.
So when you lose them, mourn the empty space
they once owned in your heart,
and mourn them deeply.
No one can tell you you cannot cry.
maybe this time will be different
You think you’ve finally done it,
done it right and at the right time,
maybe this time it will be different.
No.
It’s the same as any other.
The pain from your mind, heart and uterus
submerges you in blood
until you emerge, days later.
The pain from the uterus may retreat
but from the mind and heart, does not.
It lingers
and grows
and swells for weeks
until next month, when again,
you’ll think you’ve finally done it
and then you wait
in hopeful optimism
that this time will be different.
on that day
One day
you will think of them
for the first time in a long time
and you will think you can go back to that time
when you were happy, with them,
but then you will look around
and remember
they are not here.
On that day,
I will be here for you.
fingerprints in dust
Fingerprints disturb the dust on the coffee table
interfering with the occluding white film
so one can see the difference between
clean and dirty,
certain and uncertain.
Look through the glass
to see the magazines beyond, on the other side,
otherwise hidden.
Carve through the dust
to create the stark contrast, often needed,
to help them see
what you are looking for, trying to see.
Leave the fingerprints behind, just for a while,
so they can see how easy it is
to look for what they’re looking for, too.
beyond the trees
Out beyond the trees
still blackened with the shadows of night
there is blue sky
and a sun rising, to meet us.
There is always light.
Dawning Words 