Courage

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Looking to the future
With all my past as dust
Unexplored territories
Fill my view

I know not what
My days will hold
But I know my courage
Will see me through

Growing through Hurt

Perhaps
It is easier to be happy
When I don’t have those
Who don’t care for me
Hurting me all the
Time?

Dead Wood

tree

I cut off all the dead branches
That I was hoping would flower
Fruits to eat
I wept over the dead wood
Mourning the loss of that
Which was never or not
My tears watered the soil
That was dry from neglect
And through my sorrow
New branches formed
With life and vitality
Bearing fresh fruits
Sweet to eat

I Will Tell You

I will tell you what I do when I’m not having fun anymore
I reveal my heart in the words that I write

I will tell you what my plans are to fill the gaps in my heart
My plans are to write the gaps into words

I will tell you what is left of my time on this earth
To find a blessing in the sun, and the birds and the creation of which we are one

I will tell you about the hidden demons, and the strange and discreet unease inside
For the demons lurk, always in the shadows, even out of sight they make themselves known
To torture and to bring me to my knees, to a place where no help could be offered from this world, forcing me to seek inside myself

I can tell you about my sorrows, my nostalgia, my first love and my first kiss
Because each moment is written in my soul, the good moments and the bad, are woven to form a part of me

I can admit that I have traded my soul for a flat life, that I have tamed my wildness for security, and have worshipped forced interactions instead of celebrating the rawness within
Of which there is so much passion, there is so much yearning, so much longing, so much desire that is kept chained, with their only freedom being in the words that I pen

And I can tell you that it is time, time to wake up to the fact that I am here to Be, not to Become


In response to a poem by Majd Radwan from Sonderpath
https://sonderpath.wordpress.com/2015/10/17/tell-me-its-time-to-change/

Alone

I dreamt of you
That your heart would beat
In tune with mine
I dreamt of
The breathing of my soul
When your energy
Would infuse with mine
I dreamt of love
And passion
And union
Until the night was over
And the rising sun
Illuminated so clearly
That the romance was over
The dreams were gone
And it’s a new day
I have to face
Alone

Compassion

I am hoping
That with every door that is closed
With every goodbye that is said
With each pain my heart will feel
That I may understand a little more
That I may love a little more
And that I can be a blessing
In great ways or small

Acceptance

If there were feelings
There would be words
With numbing acceptance
For that which I cannot change –
I find that I have none

Nothing Left

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Watching you
Watching me
I turn myself away
I cannot open
My heart is closed
I want to run away
I breathe a breath
To calm myself
I have nothing left
To give


Image credit: Thierry E

Dungarees

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Out of Your Reach.”

I went shopping with my daughter the other day. I was looking for some dresses for her. She saw a pair of dungarees and asked me straight away, please can I get these? My immediate reaction was no, I’m not here to buy those, I’m looking for dresses. Another time. As we walked away, she said to me quietly, I’ve asked before and you always say another time, but there is never another time. It stopped me in my tracks. I thought to myself good point. I decided to change my mind and said to her okay, let’s go back. I bought them for her, and she wears them now all the time! And they look so cute on her! I told her on the way back, she really twisted my arm, but I suppose that’s what mothers are for. I don’t have a mother whose arm I can twist, so good for her!

Life Form

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The song of the birds
Singing their sweet sounds
Echoes into my heart
We are merely life
Taking on many
Forms