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

I have grieved and raged

Raged at the hypocrisy

Angry at my own rationalization

Grieved at another loss

I don't know why hypocrisy 

Causes my blood to boil so

Is it because of the times

When I also have played the hypocrite?

Still, I endeavor to own my errors

I think I've done an okay job

Including with this recent assault

My real error was in rationalizing your duplicity

I chose to see the good 

While blinding myself to the poison

Until I too become a target 

I wish I didn't care

You certainly don't seem to?

Seared conscience perhaps?

But alas, this loss is a blessing

Like many other losses

So, move along Carol

Closure is not necessary

For now, I nurse the wound

With help from a couple dear friends

True friends

Tender, clarifying, good-hearted

And that's what really matters...

So, flee from me

This strife and hurt

Allow tenderness, harmony, acceptance

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

Sacred Wind...

Your words of scorn

Filled with hate

I wish I could get them

Out of my head

Eventually I will,,,

Your coldness

Even after my sincere apologies

For stepping over a boundary

I did not know existed

The hypocrisy is thick

One face -- compassion, empathy, acceptance

The other -- fault-finding, blame, scorn 

What if others knew of this other side?

I think that is what bothers me most

The hypocrisy

Do I too play the hypocrite?

I'm sure I have and do at times

I too am human...

But this other side is not my problem

None of this is

Spirit, what do I do

To let go of these toxic fumes?

For that is all they are

Fumes

To be blown away by Wind

Purified by Sunlight

Yes, let in the Light...

Wind upon Pilot Mountain

5/16/23

Hawk...

The barbs cut deep

I didn't see the fence at all

I was stunned, shocked

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 at times

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...

.