Night Tales at the Emergency Room

Shaking, my eyes could not turn away,

I wondered about

that moment

that life

that reason

that simple arrival without warning,

her wishing no one might know any more

than that instance of exposed reality.

I wondered then whether it mattered to her.

A family large and in love,

I could see a respect beyond a material need,

though coiffed and dancing in style,

each one in unison with the other,

staying together while never drawn away.

I thought about time,

and how this moment

brought a family in tears,

with one avoiding eye contact,

holding back tears, just a look of fear,

watching outside of their own body,

the world around that continued without them,

at least she may have hoped,

and yet,

little girl, a sibling, in confusion,

crying and flipping pages,

watching the world exist, left curious,

while a tear escapes again, she is afraid

if her state of mind might match her sister

when that new age of reason knocked on her door.

The man steps in and asks for a name,

directed further to greater severity.

Each of these lives,

step into a circle,

not ones to explore,

just simply a desire to live.

Breathe In

SalvadorDali

Salvador Dali

When that time arises to value our lives

let the day arrive with all ifs fanfare.

When the twinge of nostalgia might overwhelm,

may cause inside our hearts

a tear, a sadness, a what if we had then,

just know that moment did occur.

Now today we have our world around us,

everything we believe and want,

our hopes, desires, our passions,

have wrapped themselves in this passage

of sweet memory.

We shan’t brush off the quiet fear

of no longer having that which we wanted,

rather, might our lives respond to what lies ahead,

knowing now our designs, plans, activities

are all because of that one truly spectacular time.

We did know then

… love …

and that, we continue to discover,

just breathe in the moment,

let sunlight’s rise

sweeten soft shadows.

Stumbling Blocks

© jessicalarue photography

© jessicalarue photography

When in that moment I feel your pain,

I always want to forget,

I want to ignore your pain,

hoping it might go away,

with your tears,

go away from me today.

~

I want to bring you back to me though,

every time I see your eyes,

any time I hear your gasps,

that bring me back to you,

I want to be with you,

by your side, with you all the time.

~

If maybe I could somehow decide upon

what day seems more real than the other,

what opportunity,

what moment when your elegance,

speaks directly to my heart,

maybe that is the way I can see you.

~

In this frame of mind today,

I can see you all over again,

spiritual in your manner,

the delight of every moment,

when the pain has left your eyes,

when the pain has left your eyes.

Talk About A Day …

… and let you change the world.

dove

Frame an opportunity …

… and may a resource new be held.

Give a smile to someone …

… and watch their tarnished hour turn silver

Imagine where you are today …

… and allow your humanity its day.

Strive upon the next challenge …

… and realize tomorrow’s fortunes are at hand.

Quiet, in the storm of reason …

… and there lies a reality of gifts in plan.

Know that today is …

… love.

Moment to Moment

trail

When just the other day we didn’t have enough time

now today, we certainly do,

yet then again, if I were given a way,

or just given away,

I might find my time to be rather, quite, well, so delightfully

immeasurable.

Time has a way of allowing our lives to become necessary,

when we glance toward the evening and recognize a few short hours

before sleep begins to suggest,

I will make you hurt in a few hours, if you won’t allow me

rest.

Musical beats that ask for rest stops are always intriguing,

for where else can you notice there is mandated an exercise

in futility, for without that brief respite, the rhythm will certainly

disappear.

In moment to moment, our lives are driven by the natural

course of our reality, whatever path we choose,

if we lay back, the moss of nature’s compass,

slowly takes root, our path now dressed in beauty’s essence.

Yet, plodding on as the human condition wears a streak

of reality upon any manner of earth’s soil.

When moment to moment our desires to strive come alive,

perhaps we might reflect upon the soil our lives depend upon.

If I Could …

… I might just decide to disappear,

like a folktale that doesn’t receive

recognition.

I don’t really wonder about outcome,

that’s not the point actually,

that’s more the reason I just cannot

step off the ledge and fly away today.

Now do trust me conscience when I speak to you,

I will not forgive a soul that believes me,

for this is a fantasy and what better way

to create a story than allow some conflict

to raise some particular alarm.

Imagine if when the dust settled there was nothing wrong,

and the world would continue at a normal beat,

you know, listen, if you bend your ear close,

you’ll get the rhythm – it really hasn’t changed

since whenever a man and woman

discovered their seductive parts

would create more … conflict.

Yet when the ashes do finally blow away

in the wind like the old song goes,

there will be too many memories that remain,

too many moments that suggest

that purpose piece we all struggle to discover

remains a pleasant blue, an iridescent glow

that calms everyone at the end of the day.

So hug me with your words, I will stick around

to watch her grow, to see him succeed,

to share my world with you,

the challenges that give me pause.

If I could … I’ll be right by your side.

Let’s watch the sunrise together, again.

I Remember Why

I started writing again

to better understand

why words had such an impact

on the world around me.

I know I can put a phrase together

more easily than most,

but at the same time,

if I cannot win the battle with my internal demons,

what is really the point in putting words together

if their value

only remains a vulgar

attempt to have meaning?

~

See the world through crystal shutters

everything vague

perhaps indiscernable

only that rather opaque disjointed

ill-defined and unspoken truth.

~

‘Therein lies the rub’ the words of William …

Centuries ago, there were wise souls that spoke

of a universal language

moving storms and winning battles

through the sharp tongue of wit,

a banter that many a difficult outcome,

might easily have dispelled.

~

Yet, today, the fury rages,

we all seem caught inside the same,

rather delicious and provocative labyrinth.

At times when the right energy emanates

through walls of certain texture,

why then, how is it possible

everyone seems crystal clear.

~

Or might we be saying everyone,

is it ‘everyman’ keeps our tears alive?

I remember why, I just have difficulty

when I try to find the words.