And when our lives come to an end
What will our thoughts be then?
What will we think, what will we feel
Would we want our lives again?
Will we be at peace, or be at rest?
Or never want to go
To say goodbye to earthly life
And all that we do know
The ghost of you
Invades my thoughts
And makes me ask the question
Why?
My lover passes me by
Without looking my way
No touch is made
No attempt at love
And I wonder
Am I
Could I
Be
Is it even possible
For a woman
In her nakedness
To be
Invisible?
I wish I knew
I wish I could tell
Or explain
Or understand
Why I do the things I do
Why I drive without a belt
Or sail a wretched sea
I wonder how
I wonder why
There is an empty space
Inside of me
Where is the love?
Where is content
Where is the peace
I hunger for
I do not know
I cannot say
There is no reveal
On why I drive
Without a belt
I know the danger
I know the price
I count the cost
And yet I still
Remain unmoved
Unchanged
Unchained
A rudderless ship
In a stormy sea
All I know
Is all I have
That I am me
Now and
Possibly
For eternity
Where is my place in the world?
Am I resigned to the shadows
To live as quietly as I possibly can
Watching those in the sun
While I observe from afar
Is it my place to abide
To make peace with the discontent
The passion that brews and causes me to ache
To long for the force to sweep me off my feet
Into whirlwinds of unknown worlds
Is it my place to quieten
The voices that rage within my heart
And wave them away with the brush
Of my calloused, nail-bitten hands
Speaking myself into a happiness I do not feel
Is it my place to be less than I ever dreamed
To excuse every failure I have made
And be content with what I have
So that nothing is lost but then
Everything is lost anyway
Is it my place to see the blue sky above
And know that the power that imagined creation into being
Is the same power that created me
And to feel one with the land, and the earth and the sea and the sky
Breathing in the same air as the living beings surrounding me
Is it my place to kneel before my Lord
And pray from the very core of my soul
I have not the answer to where my place is in the world
Or what I should be achieving, or doing, or striving for
But I yield my heart and the life that I am
That I can be of use to Thee
In small ways or great –
Now and forever
Not my will, Lord
But thine be done
What happens when your dreams come to pass? What happens when you dream a dream, and it comes true? What happens when there are no dreams to take its place? What happens with the void that is left in one’s heart, and one’s soul? What happens then?
Blowing bubbles in the wind. Being released into the world. Floating higher. Vulnerable. Fragile. Precious. Which ones will survive? Will any survive? Will they all be crushed? Remnants of thoughts and desires. The dreams are dreamt, and they become real.
Poems and Petals 