Spiralling

the ghosts of the girls we were
stir in our consciousness
beckoning with sirens’ calls of
free spirits gifted with taut skin and firm bodies
they sing songs of how once
we loved with reckless abandon as
we risked without regard for loss

they spin their nostalgic tales
overshadowing our clouded memories of
the tears we cried when our hearts first shattered
the sleepless nights we agonized
over losses that stole our naïve loves away

we have scarred and healed and grown since then
and their voices recall only glory
they tell us we were heroines
luring us to look backward instead of ahead

our heads turned over our shoulders,
we are lured into their distant provinces and we lose our way
we stumble upon a past more alive than the present

we yearn to be again as we were
before we were wounded and stretched

into the women we became

Then and Now and Not Yet

there was a time not long ago
my dreamer’s wish reached out
to every falling star or shimmering rainbow
petitioning for a sunny day with cotton ball clouds
and a red-checked picnic blanket spread
on a shore beside a bright blue glassy sea
and you there, leaning back with legs outstretched
reading aloud while I marveled at your brilliance
and a sailboat rocked gently at anchor
ready to carry us away together

there was a time not long ago
my daydreams always floated toward
a roaring fire on a cold, wet night
lighting a couch in a cozy nook
where we snuggled together sharing a quilt
quietly reading, hot cups of cocoa in our hands
content in the silence broken by crackling wood
wind whipping snow outside into mounds like cream
but we were side by side, safe and warm
hiding away from the world together

there was a time not long ago
when cold indifference broke through those dreams
like water extinguishing flames
leaving no room to hope anymore
the flattest words quenched and crushed and drowned
leaving a shell void of imagination
deflated, defeated, despairing – alone
beaches and firesides empty of sparkle
fog and grey settled in for a long stay
insisting acceptance there would be no together

in a time that is now and not yet
dreams stretch out again claiming new playgrounds
dreams peaceful and hopeful, empty of your face
dreams reaching for passion and wholeness
dreams embracing shorelines and mountaintops
dreams promising adoration returned
always inclulding one hidden in shadows
or with his back turned – one strong and brave
full of Love, this one meant to be in my dreams
the one who wants to build a life together

Kreativity

Kool Aid gave me this delightful award, which comes with an assignment: The recipient is to list 6 things that make him/her happy before subsequently passing forward the glee to others.

First, a poem for the first part.

Haiku List of Delights

1. Reading
new phrasing that makes known
life's very essence showing
simple depth -- old truths

2. Hugging
strong arms enfolding
tightly squeezing warmth surrounds
Love's closeness captured

3. Laughing
out of the belly
giggles and guffaws both come
spilling joyfulness

4. Family
because we are stuck
relating our growth becomes
better together

5. Conversation
ebbs and flows between
bridging experience and
knitting together

6. Jesus
descended to be
all that we are yet divine
His Love cost it all

And Part Two: My Awards List (in no particular order)

Erin - my sister, my friend, the most gifted person I know

Kara - friends like her are priceless treasures, and her blog bridges the frustrating miles between us

Amber - my dear friend who mothers some of my favorite small humans in the world and who also risks communicating the beauty and difficulty of her reality

LouCeeL - such genius and heart shared so openly

Flutter - a true phoenix giving courageous truth

Svensto - such delightful memories shared so eloquently

Almost the Dream

Tonight I said
A perfect night
Would be a glass of wine
And a football game
And a sweet newborn baby to hold
And I was almost right
That is almost the dream
What I forgot
Or didn’t mention
Is that a perfect night
Requires a strong chest to lean on
A strong arm around my shoulder
A second glass on the coffee table
Forgetting or suppressing
The incompleteness of that pictured perfection
Is frightening
Does it mean I’m losing hope
Does it mean I’ve given up
Does it mean I’m beginning to settle
For less
Than everything
Something inside me
Compels me to stand on the highest building
And SHOUT
Loud and insistent
Demanding an audience
When is it my turn
When do I get my chance
When and where and why and how
Are You paying attention
Because I can do without the wine and the ball game
But living without the rest is wearing on me
I am ready for more
And I am holding out
Knowing there is more to come

The Hope of Glory

When You made us
In your image
Your nature
Your essence
Not hidden away
But the core of who we were
You, deep inside us
You, moving within us
You, walking alongside us
You saw all that would be
Our brokenness
Our arrogance
Our anger
Our petty shortsighted selfishness
Murderous jealous rage displacing You
Turning our backs on You inside us
Shoving it deep down
Burying it away
Trapping ourselves
Into meaninglessness
Desperation
Hopelessness
Despair
Until You came for us
When Glory descended
Proclaimed by angels
Shocking in humility
The promise of redemption realized
Power held in check
Perfection sacrificed
Dust and clay
Flesh and bone
Mankind itself
Allowed to inhale
Divine justice and mercy
In one saving breath
So that You with us
God with us
Love with us
Emmanuel
Could once more be
God in us
Love in us
Christ in us
The hope of Glory
As You intended
When You made us
In Your image

In the Quiet

in the quiet
sometimes it seems
like there's nothing
to say about
anything that matters

in the quiet
in the space
between my ears
silence clangs louder
than any muse

in the quiet
echoes remain resounding
ancient blunders disappointment
work to drown
insistent hopeful plans

Three

Broken from the moorings
Washed ashore in pieces
Cold and bleached and dried out
Ready for building
Not into previous forms
But into heat and light and beauty
Leaving the old behind
Letting go of what had been
Creation, reformation build anew
Flame and fire, smoke and ash, climb upward
Visible for miles, drawing curious eyes
Inspiring heat and light and beauty
Setting spirits ablaze

Here's the Thing

Let me explain what I learned
Through the years of waiting
Through the hours of holding my tongue
Sitting across from you
Watching you across a room
Handing a glass back and forth across a table
I learned that I can survive in indefinite suspense
I learned that my heart can beat faster and break simultaneously
I learned that wanting something more than anything else
Doesn’t mean anything in the end

Let me explain what I learned
On the day I stopped waiting
When I finally loosed the question I held inside me
Sitting across from you
Watching you across a room
Handing a glass back and forth across a table
I learned that I knew you as well as I thought
I learned that my heart could break into infinitely smaller pieces
I learned that letting go of something I wanted so much
Would cost almost everything in the end

Let me explain what I am learning
Waiting for my heart to choose again
I no longer have to hold my tongue
Sitting across from someone else
Watching him across a room
Handing a glass back and forth across a table
I am learning that something still holds me back
I am learning that my heart is mended but it is not whole
I am learning that risking again is immeasurably more frightening
Knowing losing everything isn’t even the end

Voting for Jakey

Today I thought about him
As I signed on the line
Took the paper to the cubbyhole
Colored in the boxes
Marking my choices
I thought about his big blue eyes
I thought about his quirky humor
I thought about his unique style
And I took a deep breath
Because none of the choices before me
Feel exactly right
And what I want for him
Is a world safe for growing up
A world full of imagination
A world where he won’t be asked to go to war
None of the choices I made
Will accomplish any of those things
But in signing my name
In coloring the boxes
I did all that I could
And I prayed a little prayer of thanks
That I was allowed to mark my choices
That he and I live in a land of freedom
Where everything is not only possible
But safer and easier than so many other places
And I hope he grows up to be thankful for that too
And to sign his own name on the line
Thinking about another kid with big blue eyes




These pictures are copyrighted by my lovely and talented sister Erin. Don't steal them.

Delusions of Grandeur

We struggle
Pushing hard
For results
Earnest work
Attempting to earn our way
We strive
We are diligent
We are urgent
We are determined
To become
Self-sufficient
Our success, they say
Is determined by our effort
Our failure, they judge
undermines our worth
And yet
Rain falls
On the just and the unjust
Storms destroy
Possessions of the wealthy and the poor
Ships sink at sea
Great ones and small ones alike
Our security
Our self-sufficiency
Our assured survival
Is but a (persistent, comforting) illusion
All of it - every moment
Of disaster
Of good fortune
Of peace
Of joy
Of sadness
Passes through Your Own Hand
We curse circumstances
You allow
We pretend we have some control
Our pride, masking our fear
Hiding our knowledge of our own inadequacy
Prevents us from looking
To the One Who set the Universe in motion
The One Who crafted every last detail
Who Knows All
Who Is All
Who invites our reverent reliance
Our relinquishment of our illusions
In the end, we recognize
You are working it all for our good
And the only real security
Or freedom
Or peace
Is trusting You

Whining in Rhyme

I feel like I've got nothing to say
And lots of words pent up inside of me
I feel like I've got nothing to give
What talent I have flails aimlessly
I feel like I'm all emptied out
And yet, I feel something growing inside
I feel like I'm ready to give up
Still somehow I keep fighting, staying alive
I keep rushing forward then sliding again
I wish I could cut myself a little more slack
I feel ready for something to start anew
To release the old hangups that hold me back

In the Seattle Public Library

Light streams in
Through steel and glass
Illuminating humanity
Interspersed among
Voluminous wisdom
Silence broken by
Clicking technology
Soft laughter
Whispered conversation
Scattered about
Absorbing
Creating
Refining
Surrounded by
Works already refined

John Hughes, You Know Us Well

A contest from Backpacking Dad
Caused poetry really quite bad
So much to consider
(and update on Twitter)
But maybe I've something to add

Remember the scene with the bike?
Long Duc Dong and the girl that he liked?
They are bouncing around
'Fore he lands on the ground
A study in cross culture psych

The girl on the bike is Marlene
She's famous for only that scene
And having big breasts
Not being suppressed
For fully clothed sex (fairly clean)

Marlene's an improbable lover
But that Dong, he desired no other
I hope I'm like her
It will cause quite a stir
If a Chinaman makes me a mother

October Morning

Sky like a pencil sketch
Empty of color
Puddles reflect lines of gray
Descending from clouds
Smothering sunlight
Rain keeping time against the window
Distorting
Obscuring
Muting colors
A mockery of Monet in
Army green and sandstone

Louisville Haiku

Old houses creaking
Wind whispers under doorways
Wood yielding underfoot

Before Waking

A knock on the door
Opens to a familiar face
Unsure, searching
For welcome
For forgiveness
From the hesitation
Behind the half-closed door
After an eternal moment
Two foreheads rest on
Opposite sides of a door post
Leaning in toward each other
Moving to touch
One step closer
Simultaneous deep breaths
Exhaling apprehension
Slowly inhaling possibility
Stepping around the door
A sandpaper cheek slides
Slowly against a smooth one
Dropping to a shoulder
Breathing in memory
Then pulls back
Eyes meet again
Unsure, still questioning
Answering, one pair of
Hands finds hips, the other shoulders
Lips succumb to gravitational pull
And one foot reaches to close the door

Why, When, Will, If, How, Then, Who

Why do I struggle
Why do I flail on my own
Why don’t I reach up
When I look back
When I curl in
When I stand stymied, straining
Will I ever be
Will I ever know
Will I ever have, forgetting
If only I look up
If only I breathe deep
If only I ask and knock and seek, suddenly
How You provide
How You delight
How You pour Love down and
Then my wheels spin again
Then I grow and learn and move on
Then peace floods into
Who I am because of You
Who I will be because of You, and I know again
Who You are

Regret in Flames

angry words pour out
waves of fire
gaining speed
lava boiling over from
the abyss of fear
anger scorches earth
turning trust to ashes like
an ancient tree
destroyed by lightning
anger resounds like thunder
obliterating reason's quiet calm
it leaves a solitary figure
crouching in a barren wasteland
suffering and charred
wounded and alone

Four for October

Fall means dark early
Sun rising later, urging
Sleepy slow mornings

Fall means cool breezes
Stirring colored leaves to drop
Crunching under boots

Fall means hot chocolate
Lit pumpkins smiling over
Family dinner

Fall means brisk evenings
Contently swinging on
Porch swings in sweaters

On Meghan

she has always made me laugh
it’s reassuring—no matter what
even when I am boiling over
even when I am angry at her

when I am sad or lonely or hurt
she deftly spins words and expressions
into infectious comedy
irresistibly overcoming my best defenses

she is fiercely loyal
do not cross her—this is no joke
she takes me under her wing
and she alone may henpeck

woe to the attacking outsider she detects
she is more likely to forgive
a deep wound to her own heart
than a slight to mine

she wants the best for everyone
even the ones on her enemies list
she sees problems as an invitation
to delve deep and offer the very best solution

she has a wonderful plan for your life
and no fear of sharing it
her relentless helpfulness floats
along the current of her compassion

she keeps me grounded and uplifted
she cuts through even the best disguise
yet her cynicism is often her own illusion
ineffectively guarding her tender heart