Dark Days in December

Tears of grief

I wail

I spit upon broken promises, past and future

Alone

Worn out from the game

Enraged at it all

But more so at myself

Alone

Day after day after day

Month after month after month

No end in sight

Alone

So, I quit

No more will I apply the band aids

No more will I try "the next thing"

Alone 

I awake the following day

A shield encases my heart

Now into its death

Alone

I later rouse my body 

To clothe itself, layer upon layer

Laborious labor to keep warm in the elements

Alone

I must gas up Sir Edward 

For my appointment tomorrow

Maybe the outing will help me

Alone

As I drive the back route out of Rolling Hills

I witness, right next to the street in a yard

Eight sacred black vultures

And a dead raccoon 

Once again, nature speaks to me

These sacred winged creatures have come 

To feed upon the carrion

Within my broken, deadened heart

For a moment

I feel seen

No longer 

Alone

Lost and found... (2007)

~*~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

~*~*~

Lost...

lost

in a kaleidoscope of

hues

wandering through

ever changing

tunes

---------------

lost

foggy night

in the crossroads

no white line

---------------

lost

my pen

scribbling doodles

searching for words

to describe nothingness

---------------

lost

my cane

abandoned to some corner

holding up two walls

~*~*~

And found...

found

my heart

in a kaleidoscope

of memories

once bound

in crystal tears

---------------

found

unfilled void

gaping for sustenance

abandoned to

the inkwell

---------------

found

the cookie jar

once filled with sweets

now emptied

left with only crumbs

~*~*~

Reaching...

 How are you, my Love?

Tired, so very tired

To think creatively, I desire

It once was easier

Or was it?

What have you seen recently?

Red -- Rose blossoming from Fertility

Orange -- comforting Hue gently sits on the southern dark Horizon where Beach meets Ocean; Elephant and Tiger accompany me upon the Sand while Whale swims along in shallow Waters

Yellow -- bright Sunrise springing from Darkness while my star-friend Martin sits with Pog in the Yellow Court
Green -- four-leaf Clover arising from Sunrise reaches upward into Sky
Blue -- wide-open Vistas inviting Creatures out to play
Indigo -- small, feathery Plumes display their beauty upon thorny Pods

White -- Clouds shifting shapes while dancing across the Heavens

How do you feel now, my Love?

A little more at peace

Even in my fatigued state

These images remind me that

I am connected 

~*~

These images arose as I delved into a guided-meditation course using Solfeggio frequencies and colors, each as they relate to their corresponding chakra. (In this course, the crown chakra is represented with the color white.)

Now and Then (2009)

~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

 ~*~

What is it that I seek

Peering past, o'er my shoulder

If only I had rear eyes

My neck would get some rest

Why not stop?

About face, look forward

Vista wide

Neck relaxes

Until I strain too hard

Failures, losses

Successes, gains

Some past, others future

This moment

The only guarantee

Time in a bottle

Moments in pictures

Dreams await in visions

This moment

A time to sow

~*~

january 29, 2009

Feel Me (2007)

  ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

 ~*~

Turn off this static

that fills my mind.

Flee to the woods

this soul of mine.

Arms outstretched.

Face to the sun.

Fill my senses with wonderment!

Fill my lungs with life!

Fill my heart with freedom!

let me taste the prism hues

let me dance upon the rainbow

let me touch the sky

Fill me!

Feel me....

Let me know I am

ALIVE.

january 2007

~*~

August 11, 2024

As I'm rereading these poems from decades past, I read about a woman in distress. And, in 2007, I'd say that was true. (There've been other years of distress too.) I felt I was battling for my mind, maybe? January 2007 was when I began to experience and see that the anti-cult movement could be just as cultish as the cult. I received a big dose of this understanding in the subsequent years. 

I also began to see that "cult" behavior is human behavior but taken to an extreme. 

A blog post from 2018: "Cult behavior is human behavior..."

Toxic (2007)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

 ~*~

I feel entrapped

Wearied I am

Yet nothing I've done to be weary

Snap these invisible bonds!

Catapult self-righteous demands

to the farthest breadth.

I desire

rest

verve

depth

But all I hear are these jumbling torrents

Venomous words run through my head

"STOP IT!"

I cry to no avail

Emotional masochist that I am

This insanity within...

Do others know it too?

Let me run naked through the woods

Live among the wild beasts

O survival!!!

To live by instinct

I am too cush in my middle-class life

Bound by society's standards

Does it not make brute beasts of us all?

january 2007

Transition (2007)

~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

 ~*~

Dare I enter?
Do I dare?

I tiptoe face forward
backward in time
to take a peek,
or a full view.

....breathe.....

I stroll
into my past.
Labor to touch
innocence
sublime.

A peek?
No.
A full view,
yet only a part
of what I lost:
Innocence
Heart

May I touch you?
Gentle I will be.
What I once knew?
Will you teach me?

May I embrace you?
Will you embrace me?
May I carry you
Forward with me?

.....breathe.....

I turn, I walk
into the now.
Abandon not
this presence of innocence,
the why
the how.

Dare I enter?
Do I dare?

january, 2007

Feel the fear and do it anyway.

 

Senses (2007)

~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

 ~*~

Mesmerizing sunset

Prism hues paint the sky

yellows, pinks, purples

Yet without sight

No mesmerizing.

Entrancing song

Melodious tunes fill the air

flutes, strings, rhythm beats

Yet without hearing

No entrancement.

Inviting jasmine

Fragrance impregnates the meadow

sensual, rustic, calming

Yet without smell

No invitation.

Enticing chocolate

Sweet morsels enliven the tongue

rich, amorous, satisfying

Yet without taste

No enticement.

Alluring physique

Tender touch electrifies fingertips

firm, supple, warm

Yet without touch

No allurement.

Enlightening spirit

Quickening every cell

life, death, resurrection

Yet without faith

No enlightenment.

january, 2007

~*~

Inspired by Watchman Nee

Reverie (2007)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

Adding some of them to my online anthology...

 ~*~

 Reverie

Why are you hiding friend?

Why do you not respond?

Why do we humans hide?

Why not open ourselves

while we draw breath

to listen beyond and beneath words

to hear our hearts beat

to share the rhythm of our souls?

I yearn for a day

when we love one another

in spite of disagreements

in spite of misconceptions.

When with open face and open hearts

we can stand in one another's presence

unguarded, naked

without reservation.

When we see with enlightened hearts

what it is that lies deep within

compelling each of us to act as we do.

....Yes, I am a dreamer....

Hopefully the dreams have substance

and one day perhaps

we will be connected with a resonance

that extends beyond words

a magic that too often exists

only in our dreams.

I pray I never lose that dream

never quit believing

in the heart of another

my sister, my brother

wherein perhaps is planted

an eternity divine.

january, 2007

In Loving Memory: 1922- 1996 (1996)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

I plan to add them to this poetry blog...

So, reader beware...

 ~*~

 In Loving Memory: 1922- 1996

He was patient and kind, a man of his own

who loved life to the fullest regardless 

of what life sometimes dealt to him.

He loved the outdoors:

a hunter, a skier, a sailor, a golfer.

He enjoyed people

sharing his life the best he knew.

His will to live was strong.

Despite overwhelming odds, he continued to strive to be his best.

We will miss him:

his smile, his laugh, his positive outlook on life, his quit wit.

Yet we well remember the joy he brought,

his example of patience and gratitude.

We will ever be thankful for the inspiration

he gave to continue to live life to the fullest;

to never give up.

february, 1996

~*~

The poem above is about my father. 

He was in a head-on auto collision in July 1983; it rendered him a quadriplegic until his death in February 1996. 

I've written quite a few pieces about that part of his life, of our lives as a family.

Here's a poem about when I 1st laid eyes upon Dad after his wreck: Head-on Collision.

This link is to links of some memoir-type pieces I've written about that time: When Limbs Go Quiet.

 ~*~

Unnamed: In honor of Alex (2006)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

I plan to add them to this poetry blog...

 ~*~

Unnamed: In honor of Alex 

I know you cannot hear me

for your heartbeat stopped long ago.

I chose to stop your heartbeat,

I chose to stop your growth.

I never allowed you

to know the breezes of the fields

to see the beauty of the sun or snow.

In my ignorance I chose these things.

Were they right or wrong?

Honestly, I do not know.

Yet my pain runs deep today.

~my heart, it hurts~

~my tears, pour forth~

~this grief, it is for you~

In it I honor the life you once were,

the individual you may have been.

I can see you in my heart's eye:

an infant with dark hair,

deep brown eyes,

soft, smooth olive skin.

And if you were here now my love

I would hold you at my heart,

I would stroke your raven locks,

I would gently kiss your forehead,

I would cradle you at my breast,

I would nourish you, love you,

your essence I'd caress.

Oh, God!

Please honor the grief I feel!

Thank you for forgiveness,

thank you that wounds do heal.

Thank you for life you have blessed me with,

in spite of my erring ways.

Thank you as I offer this grief

as a sacrifice of praise.

And now I set within this sacred place

amidst nature's beauty, freedom, grace

among the rocks

the sun

the snow

the ponies that run wild...

The memory and life

of this

my unborn child.

07/04/06

I later named him Alex...

~*~

This poem is about an abortion I received at 19 years old around the fall of 1978 when I was W.O.W. Ambassador with The Way International...

As one can see by the date, this was written almost 28 years later, a time when I deeply grieved the loss...

I had had a reunion with the father; shortly thereafter I grieved deeply...

I decided to honor the life that was once in my womb with a private ceremony. 

I bought some tokens at a local Good Will: a small blue tin with a heart on the middle of the lid, blue booties, and blue mittens. 

My husband (who is not the father) and I held a private ceremony in one of my sacred wilderness spots -- near Mt. Rogers, VA, where feral ponies run free. 

We hiked in from Massie Gap, carrying a foldable shovel. Shortly before one gets to Thomas Knob Shelter, we buried the tokens and sang Amazing Grace, one the father's (and our) favorite songs. As we hiked out, we took a break at a bench. We were graced with the presence of the ponies and a tiny newborn foal who approached us and said, "Hello..." 

It was July 4, 2006...

I did not have a smart phone at the time and have no images from that day; the picture below is from 2017. The foal in the pic is older than the tiny one we witnessed on that sacred July 4th.

 ~*~

Mare & Foal, 2017

God's Healing Cover (2001)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

I plan to add them to this poetry blog...

So, reader beware...

 ~*~

God's Healing Cover

My life was stormy,

yet I knew God's will was healing, wholeness, and vitality.

At times this was evident to my soul,

yet at times this vision was blurry.

In spite of my doubt God's hands upheld me;

His Word was my soothing guide.

With open face I would pour forth my soul;

any darkness I tried not to hide.

I would think of the man whom for forty years

believed until his wholeness was filled.

Or the woman who had the issue of blood

who didn't give up and her body was healed.

I would bring to mind the price Christ paid

to drive away my emotions of doubt.

I would go to the man on earth

whom I love above any other.

He would hold me, caress me, tenderly soothe

remind me of God's healing cover.

At times I would think,

"Well if I should die, I will still proclaim

God's will is wholeness

I will hold my mind

Attribute no folly to His name."

I'm thankful for the healing I have received

I know I have a ways to go.

I trust I'll continue to believe

Knowing that is a key to receive

And reach out to others to inspire the same.

march, 2001

~*~

Another poem from a time when I was a true Way believer...

This is about my healing from asthma and other autoimmune disorders which I had suffered for almost two decades, at the time...

My getting well was not a miracle in the literal sense of the word...

My healing came via science...

And, to me, science and life are full of "ordinary miracles"...

~*~

Charlotte & Wilbur's "Ordinary Miracle" ~ Sarah McLachlan

Our Dwelling Place (1987)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

I plan to add them to this poetry blog...

So, reader beware...

 ~*~

 Our Dwelling Place

Simply think of all God's goodness

All He has bestowed on you and me

To be alive in this day and time

To be a vital part of His great family.

A family so diversified

Yet in Him united as one

We cannot lose as we stand fast

In the love of Christ His son.

As I look at you, as I look at me,

I need only look upon that which God sees.

Sure, I may miss the mark and so may you

But we have a choice of where to dwell.

We can dwell on the times the mark has been missed

We can dwell with our thoughts only inward

Or we can dwell on our seated position in Christ

With our thoughts focused on God's Word.

God has fully equipped us

To be to the praise of His glory

He has bestowed us with eternal life

With a home no earthly carpenter can build.

As we think of all God's goodness

There is no room to dwell

On the times the mark has been missed

Or the times we thought we failed.

july, 1987

 

~*~

Another poem from a time when I was a true Way believer...

Followers had left in mass in latter 1986 (I think it was). There was division among the ranks.

I wrote this poem while at a Way Family Camp in Gunnison, CO. 

It was read from the pulpit by Vince Finnegan, I think. Hubby and I are pretty sure it was Vince. If not, it was somebody else. :D 

 ~*~

Turn on the Light (199?)

 ~*~

I've recently run across some old poems... 

I plan to add them to this poetry blog...

So, reader beware...

 ~*~

Turn on the Light 

At times in life, we may go astray

We may forget God's works, try another way

That perhaps looks good; yet we know it's not best.

Why waste God's time on anything less?

Jehosophat learned as he stood with His God.

Yes, he veered the wrong way, but have not we all?

Yet he heeded God's heart and came back the right.

We all have the same choice; choose we the dark or the light?

In the dark we can't see clearly, yet we can still see

But the path is obscured by the absence of light.

Without light on the path, we may stumble or bruise

Yet there's a light within reach; which way will we choose?

Let us gird up our loins, cinch in our belts,

Take a deep breath of God's Word, stand for the truth.

Let us choose the Word's way, shine God's light on our path.

Let us run with the household choosing the best.

Let us make our allegiance to God's Word, nothing less.

Then we will see clearly, and we will choose right.

Let us not choose the darkness; let us turn on the light.

199?

~*~

Written when I was a true Way believer...

This was written in response to one of the times when The Way was losing followers in mass...

~*~

Shorts: May 2023, Two (5/15 - 5/20)

   To read an introduction and access the Shorts index, click here: Shorts: Introduction

Dedicated to all who suffer in silence...

Which isn't silent at all...

The torment is a far scream from quiet...

You are heard...

      You are not alone...

     We are not alone...

Monday, 5/15/23

Chipmunk stands on deck rail

Surveying back yard

"I am Chippy!!"

"This is my kingdom!"

I wonder,

How far can chipmunk eyes see?

I feel sad

So, feel it

You miss living...

The mountain trips and biking

Occasional visits with friends

Going out to eat or to a movie

Maybe you can watch Guardians this week

I wish people I know

understood the misery

I live with

But I can still drive

I am still mobile

Occasionally I can even cook

I see Michele tomorrow

I pray, 

God, direct us both as to 

the next step

Ahh...

I am comparing 

my current can'ts

to my once coulds

Other people's ables

to my disables

I just don't know

why I am still here

Am I to learn

that my worth, my value

is not dependent on

what I can give?

What determines

the value, the worth

of one person's life?

Wednesday, 5/17/23

Rough day

Another one

Bites the dust

But I had a good day

yesterday

Imagine two good days in a row

Or even three!!

God, I prayed

I asked for guidance

for yesterday

I thought we were on 

the right track

I was hopeful

Then last night

I didn't sleep

during second-shift

Today was again met

with dizziness and nausea

On top of weakness, pain, fatigue

Insomnia

I feel like I'm being poisoned

Am I?

With what?

Thursday, 5/18/23

Carol, you are divinely cared for

Recall the many times

an answer appeared from darkness

Sometimes you were seeking

Sometimes not

But even with the nots

You recognized there was Something

Like Tuesday

The three encounters

with three young men

around the age of Son

each one

The first walked with you

down the stone stairs

Part of Jomeokee Trial

He slowed his young, 

fit pace to walk 

with you, Carol

Y'all spoke about his work

about the trails

about the mountains

The second, from Florida,

spotted you at the rocks

The one place you were

a little concerned about

Like trail magic, he was there

to spot you

We talked about his work

about community

about trails and mountains

And the third, from Belgium

He inquired about your injury

When you answered it was a medical injury

His eyes looked keenly interested

Ends up, he's a pharmaceutical packaging rep

We had a pleasant conversation

Work, community, mountains

He had three days to wander the area

He inquired about other places to hike

I gladly shared

while he took notes

In these three encounters

none of us exchanged names

Yet, as strangers, we connected

with our hearts

Trail people are the best folks in the world

I was refreshed

And I felt hope for the next generation

Friday, 5/19/23

The masked bandit

Four legs

Inspecting the deck

Back and forth

I slept last night

Not without help

From my little pill friends

But I slept

And it felt good

May I be so bold to ask

For two nights in a row?

Saturday, 5/20/23

Lightning bugs

Flashing in trees

What was it like to see my first

Lightning bugs?

Little boy today

on the trail

thrilled and delighted

with a slug, ladybug, and moth

How do you feel Carol?

Grateful, but at the same time

a little sad

How does your body feel?

Oh that...

It hurts, especially

my hands

Closure is not necessary...

My stomach turns at the duplicity

Ah, that's why the nausea churned

As the days passed after you plunged your dagger

Deep into my heart and marrow

But is the duplicity hypocrisy?

It appears so...

Two public personas

But one is deliberately cloaked

The one that sanctimoniously 

Belittles, derides, and finds fault

Away from the witness of folks 

Who know only the other persona

And it's not so much the content

As the hiding

That bothers me 

I can no longer rationalize it

My real error was in rationalizing the duplicity

I chose to see the good 

While blinding myself to the poison

Until I too became a target 

I have grieved and melted

Grieved at another loss

Melted at my own self-blame 

Angry at my own rationalizations

But alas, this loss is a lesson

Like many other losses

So, move along Carol

Closure is not necessary

So, flee from me

This strife and hurt

Allow tenderness, harmony 

Acceptance, forgiveness

And be freer than before... 

~*~

Sometimes you don't get closure; you just move on. ~ Karen Salmansohn

To be free...
Ponce Inlet Lighthouse, 2019

~*~

A poem from a previous era: High Tide

Hawk...

The barbs cut deep

I didn't see the fence at all

I was stunned, shocked 

Bewildered

How do I navigate this?

What am I to learn?

How can I stop the drip, drip, drip

Of blood, life force, flow?

I've been here before

Daggered by words of accusation

Disdain, belittlement

A lashing, though this was a small one

But it reached my very bones

I've been here before

Venomous scorn

Harshness of judgement

To put me in my place

I do not like this place

This feeling small

Though the past runs deep

Yet, my nature is peacekeeping

I am not fond of fighting words

I am not fond of name-calling

I am not fond of judging others 

Though I too fall prey to such 

May I learn from this

To be truer to myself

To not be so quick 

To take full blame

And remember Hawk

She appeared promptly

After I exited The Path

Flying right in front of me

At eye-level, only 6 feet away

Again, I was stunned

But for a different reason

Beauty ~ Grace ~ Timing

This Hawk sighting

What does this mean?

And then again, a few days later

As I shared with Friend

While nursing the barbed wound

And its continual drip

I looked out the kitchen window 

And there, regal and confident

Hawk, perched upon the blackberry post

Right as I was relaying the incident

Thank you, Hawk

Thank you, Friend

Thank you, Spirit

For Life's lessons

May I continue to learn....

~*~

The Path
May 10, 2023

Hawk Symbolism:   

If a hawk flies in front of you, ... [it] is a sign of peacekeeping, middle ground, and unity....

A hawk near the home relates to energy in the root chakra that needs to be balanced and brought into moderation. ...A hawk is meant as encouragement, to show you that the best place to cultivate your best self is in the safety of your own home. 

 

Real...

 Write what is real and true and tied to our experience... (Marta Szabo)

~*~*~

I think of the Velveteen Rabbit. 

He so wanted to be real. 

And he was real to the little boy that would carry Rabbit almost everywhere Boy explored. 

Boy slept with Rabbit.

I feel sure Boy held Rabbit closely to his heart while in his night dreams. 

Rabbit sat with Boy after Boy fell ill with scarlet fever. 

Doctor said all Boy's toys needed to be burned for sanitation reasons. 

Rabbit was stuffed in a bag and put in the garden awaiting cremation. 

His heart was broken, and he shed Velveteen tears. 

But then a magic fairy appeared to Rabbit. 

Fairy transports Rabbit deep into a forest, places him with other bunnies that can hop and breathe and wiggle their ears. 

Fairy gives Rabbit a magic kiss and Rabbit's fur turns from tattered velveteen to soft, warm, rabbit fur like bunnies of the forest are clothed in. 

I have felt like the Velveteen Rabbit after he was put in the garbage bag. 

No longer needed. 

Tossed aside and eventually forgotten about. 

Broken. Tattered. Lonely. 

Without purpose, other than to make it through another day. 

Did a fairy come along and pull me up? 

If so, I could not see the fairy with my head eyes. 

But in my imagination, my Insiders were born. 

Though they had probably always been with me; I was just too preoccupied with pleasing people and obeying the Word to allow my imagination to wander that far for fear of devil spirit possession.

How silly for a woman in her early 60s to have relationships with imaginary beings that live inside her. 

There is Pog who first appeared as the steward of the pond of grief; that's how he got his name, Pog. Then the pond of grief slowly transformed into the pond of gratitude. 

There is Itt, who looks like Itt from the Addams Family. 

He first appeared as anger. 

He would shiver and all his hair would shiver with him. 

When he felt rage all his hair would stand up on end, stretched as straight and far as the hairs could go. 

There is Owl who first appeared when Woman was having some gut trouble. 

With his beak, Owl carefully plucked dark pellets from woman's belly and her gut trouble eased. 

There is Troll who is gnarly with a heart of gold. 

Troll is strong and a shape shifter who helps give woman's limbs strength. 

He carries a golden sword, probably related to the Greek myth Chysaor whose mother was Medusa and father was Poseidon.

There is Martin, a golden star who used to tremble with fear. 

Pog has helped Martin to find peace. 

They both help Woman to sleep.

There are Campfire Stewards, Unicorn, Winged Fabio, Eagle and Raven. 

And two of the most beloveds of the woman, Whale and Elephant. 

And there is a giant tree where the Campfire Stewards have built treehouses.

From a different decade there is Nanna, the girl, Sally the horse, Tender the aged steward, and Giant John the gardener.

All the Insiders love to dance as Woman listens to dancing music. 

How silly for a woman in her mid 60s to count inanimates as friends, treat them kindly, talk with them and feel them talk back. 

Similar to the trees who hold her and cradle her and let her know how much they love her and how happy they are to see her. 

She has been known to break into shadow dancing, the sun behind her back as she dances with Tree. 

Truth be told, it's not silly at all...

It is survival...

*~*~

The Village, 2022
It has since grown...

.