The Sun Unleashed

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The sun unleashed its radiant heat
Reminding me  it was still there,
Still very much alive
A diamond gilded tiara worn by her, proudly from on high
The crown of glory beams from her home
A cerulean azure sky
Though every shade and hue of gold
Is cast down from above
There remains residual cold
From a time not that long ago
And just because the sun may shine
I cannot find my way
Just yet
For I am stalled and stuck
And a little left behind

Still lingering in  a winter of the soul.

But I am hopeful
And aware of grace
They never left
Neither of these two
Both mercifully
Remain, a blanket, a covering
Attend me even now
And patiently they wait for me
Call me to come out and play

They’ve gone ahead to melt the ice and snow
And promise to return
To warm my heart one day
Thaw out
These places that remain
Frozen

A little dark and cold

The sun unleashed
Its power today
And I know Hope will lead me
Into Spring
Where new life regenerates
Erupts, painting everything in every hue and shade of green
And we’ll forget
The cold and dark
No memory of this season
We’ll leave it all behind

And thank the unleashed lioness
The day the wild and fiercely glorious
Sun, she could not
Not shine.

Across From You

wpid-IMG_20140219_125837.jpgAcross From You

There are things more mysterious than this
Like how the moon shines down on earth
From the darkest place way off
In outer space
Throws moon glow on my bare and wintry lawn
Waxing, waning always remaining
The same
When things around me scream uncertainty and
Change
Like a child I seem dumbfounded
As  I grasp for understanding
And struggle to explain

There are things more mysterious than this
Though it feels complex and nearly unknowable to me
Like how
The dog loves so devotedly
The parrot learns to mimic so quickly
And the dolphin smile like human beings
Wide with their winsome grins

But all the same I find it curious
And a riddle in my fragile soul
How this gift of you and me
Is permanent and unshakeable
In this crazy wildly spinning orb

How I can sit across from you
And you from me
And have you
Mine my hurts and ease my pain
Complete my sentences
And read my mind
Find what’s hidden and buried deep
Keep me from floating off the edge
Rushing in and giving life
Bringing light when darkness blankets my soul

How you can celebrate my victories
As if they were your own
Cheer me on and dry my tears
Say the one thing I need to hear
Be my advocate and my guide
Shore me up when I am sinking fast

Though I seek beauty everyday
I stumble on the mysteries still
And I and you are added in that mix
The swirling mingling blend of two
For how can I ever come to understand
A love as complex and beautiful as this

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Joining Lyli for Thought Provoking Thursday

Standing At The Sink

wpid-20140212_145037.jpgStanding At The Sink

If you find me staring through the pane
Fuzzy, focusing on things
That aren’t right here
Far away I seem to you
Wandering out
back in again
Lost in thought inside my head
Making art and hearing holy whispers to press ahead
Bubbles resting in the kitchen sink
It is not the labor that you think
Upon first glance,
upon a second glance
You’ll see
Breathing rapid at the chance

To go chase Robins in my dreams
Daily washing worry down the metal
Drain
Choosing to find beauty in the ash
He bowed
Wrestled something from the soil
Hope, I think, was birthed on my front lawn

He landed there in front of me
As I stood steeped in worry at my sink
The birds transformed me into
Something holy new

Now I am rusty breasted in my dreams
Wings will take me far from here
I can join the Robins and
Go places in my mind
Disappear, fly somewhere other
Than leaning on the dirty sink

Every anxious thought
So filled with fear
Is floating in a sea
Made of foamy bubbles laced with dirt
I am a vessel
Propped up, leaning on the counter
Trying not to
Sink

Even the drain does not want
To take from me
This toxic waste

And if you see me resting in the rocking chair

Here but not, a countenance
Filled with worry and concern

I am not resting, idle though it seems
I have run away, escaping to my
Dreams
Asked them to carry me
Someplace other than right now, right here

The words give solace
Comfort
And remove me from
A place of tears

Now I have joined the Robins
Dancing on a sea of brown
They’ve brought
A story laced with hope

My soul
Is grateful for a flock of orange breasted birds
Content when digging
In the wormy dirt.
And I am back now
Washing dishes in the sink.

The Agony Of Defeat

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The Agony of Defeat
I ask him
what happens when the Super G competitors
wipe out as they are winding their way
Down
Down
Down
making hairpin turns, carving the
ice and snow like a man takes
a new Gillette razor to the side of
his square jaw line
carving carefully to avoid a
ripping of flesh, a tearing of skin
avoiding blood at all costs

one wrong move
tactically taken
down the Russian mountainside

and pride and ego
land in the soft snow off to the side
spine and bone and muscle
in tact or broken
like the dream
bruised and busted up

we children of the sixties remember

we recall the Saturday slogan on TV
the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat

I scream at the screen
as the athletics
dissolve into a pile
a medal-less mess

and I want grace extended and do overs and second chances
for every last one

oh but that we would
extend it
the comforting caress
Balm
of the Spirit
Blow the winds of Mercy
Comfort a suffering saint

these elements of blood and grace and death and life
the Spirit’s there
at the moment of impact
always wiping the skinned knee
of his child
lying in a mangled heap
paralyzed
frozen by fear and disgrace

the agony of defeat
loss and pain
sadness and disappointment
roll down the cheek, by-product
of defeat
like an avalanche

He who makes us white
As snow
Mercy
He makes it new

Comforted in loss

Raising us up
from dejection
and defeat

I cover my eyes
Like a child
Look away
So much to bear

I tell him it’s the stories I love

Of the overcoming ones
The get-back-up-again ones

Tell me your story
Of mountaintops and mountainsides
Of trudging in the valley
Of defeat
And I’ll tell mine

The thrill of victory
Battle cry of those who
Break the seal on the package of grace

and at all costs
run into the arms
of a Carpenter
whose flesh was ripped
skin was torn
whose blood was shed

We look into His eyes
And
Forget

The agony of defeat.

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Joining Laura Boggess at Laura Boggess dot com for Playdates At The Wellspring & Jennifer Dukes Lee for #tellhisstory