A Terrible Week

I found myself crying a lot this week. I don’t mind a good cry, it can be rather cleansing. However, this emotion I experienced had layers. It had begun early in the weekend, the truth of a sudden turn in my life had reckoned itself to such a degree I felt for the first time I was unable to turn back. I realized pain, and sought some way to reduce the impact of my fears. But I couldn’t, the foundation had been laid down, and I was now faced with never being given another chance to redeem myself. I think the most difficult aspect of that reality was that I was confused with what was real and what now is illusion in my life.

Never is illusion an easy outlet to define. The term suggest we are ill in our own state of mind, to such a degree, we are compelled to create something out of nothing. In doing so, I remained stuck in my own quandary over how I lost someone I really loved. Everything in my life became one-sided, and I had no recourse. I was no longer connected to the security of our passage of time, and I was forced to imagine life without her.

And then it happened. Something bigger than any of us could ever predict. I lost two people in my community that recognized a certain culture buried in backlash and discrimination. Two people died under unusual circumstances. I watched someone I was very close to unravel, and it was difficult to experience. At the same time, I kept wanting some explanation in another part of my life that leaves me today, extremely alone.

I didn’t find relief, and tonight as I write these passage, there is still no peace.

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For There Is Love

muslim-woman-praying.jpg

We are taught to know love,

a spectacular spiritual solemnity

we embrace

wonder

wander through our lives

with a constant

in some evaluative sojourn.

 

We know lives

touch the spirit of others

in quiet encounters

a silence can speak so

tenderly in its clarity

to know her,

answer him,

wander through a myriad

of human condition

centered proclivities.

 

Yet in the quiet

of loss

of tragedy

of the knowledge

we do not have,

though sometimes protest

to hold the key

to why it is

who we are

what we might become

in such judgment

we can never really know

beyond our ability

to show compassion

in the eyes of hope

 

For it is this confusion that draws

the most stolid heart to tears.

Two Lives – A Cultural Divide

Dedicated to the short lives of Bushra Abdi, 19, and Zeynab (Hapsa) Abdalla 19


girls


 

There are already open wounds

two young women lost their lives

their final moments

in a panic with 911.

 

We have these preliminary assumptions

the dead can no longer speak

a certain beauty will now forever

encompass the memory of their lives.

 

What happens in the middle of the morning

to find the soul and heart

crying for safety, lost in a certain mire

unable to see, perhaps without ability.

 

Now we have to listen

we have to hope in the midst of tragedy

no foul play, only the reality

of two lives ending in such a tragic way.

 

They perished in a city

in a hot bed of controversy

the marginalization of a society

lived and breathed until this day.

 

We will wonder the bystander

if there are questions to remain

perhaps two children in the throes

of living each day like their last.

 

They will be, were, are always loved

ours is not a place to judge

only find the peace of finding Grace

finding paths for their soul to rise.

On The Wonder of Age

Today is the birthday of an elder,

a daughter just lost her father,

a young boy,

playing in a culvert,

watching handmade wooden ships

float toward the sewer,

no judgment in mind,

simple childhood,

with an elder keeping his welfare

in mind.

 

We wonder sometime about the truth

in aging, the wisdom found,

the mistakes we wish to take bake

yet now we simply go on living

appreciating sometime

the turn of the coin

where once we believed this,

now we are forever asking for

sweet forgiveness

because with age

comes for some a sense of

quiet humility.

 

Oh do answer the question

that when under the knife

my body shut down

for modern medicine

did I go anywhere

with my dreams

beyond waking again,

seemingly fixed

yet forever drawn

to wondering just why.

 

The age of this my freedom

Will by my silent fiefdom

If, Wonder Might Recall

We circle our lives

in a constant twirl

deciding upon a sacred

trust of following trails

cascading in waters

a fresh, puritanical veil

we are always looking,

wondering, in a wander

if this is what is meant

to be our only real.

 

Remember when as a child

the sweet irony of morning

the sun cast across the sky

our lives simply meant this

moment only, nothing beyond,

we could dance forever

in a myriad of circumstance

always feeling welcome

in the world we did belong.

 

Sometimes today,

when glancing in our

rearview mirror on this

our life we lead,

we wonder about the tools

we carried forward,

those we left behind,

the evils, the strain,

the confusion,

if only we could keep

ourselves moving forward.

 

There seems a purpose

to all of this, our memory.

If We Were To Know

Would we be the same

if wherever we go

vastly different claims

would question ego.

 

I sat on a hill one day

imagining my life

wondering time away

wandering in strife

 

So many of us each time

we think we figured it out

we walk again in line

acting we know all about.

 

If we could be where we are

if you and me and everyone

were to know just bizarre

our attitude weighs a ton

 

I wandered off the hill

again wanting only peace

some sort of quiet release

wanting everything to be still.

Watching Their World Begin

Sweet elegance is the certain beauty of love

two soul who find their journey will be one

 

So many possibilities, such wandering imagery

yet with time in eloquence Rose and Nick

 

will find a world to gather in such is a storm

as is the burden of the human condition alone.

 

The key to today in the sunlight of our autumn

is a young couple in love, together found as one.

 

The vows spectacular, the wedding court sublime

Tonight we waltzed toward this our only life.

 

What spectacular Grace is found in sweet matrimony

would we witness certain beauty in this love found.



for Nick & Rose – September 22nd, 2018 – their wedding day