I’m Still Here

I’m still here. Barely functioning, but here. I won’t make excuses. There are none. I simply haven’t decided whether taking time to write every day is something I want to do. I haven’t found the thread in my writing that makes it matter.

I’m looking for the same thread in my life. Same result.

Still, I haven’t forgotten this blog space is here, waiting for me should I ever find my way back to that person who started it. I’m far off course at the moment, lost in a forest. I wake in the middle of the night in a panic that my life is only this and that I will never find my way. That it’s too late for me. I haven’t accomplished anything yet, so why pretend I ever will?

I go through the motions of life. I shower. I dress. I clean the house and decorate it for the holidays. I function. But the connection I want to feel to something greater than this, grander than my little life, that connection eludes me. Nothing matters.

I don’t matter.

I think I got tired of writing about that, because writing usually makes me think and feel. Lately, I’d rather not do either.

I’ll just be. Whatever I am in this moment. Still here.


Somehow, We All Lost


Open grave, one mourner lingers,
Settled in to watch the show.
One by one, the crows have gathered,
Signaling it’s time to go.

Sons and daughters wrapped in sackcloth,
Wives and widows veiled in lace,
File past the lowered casket.
Fractured smiles scar each face.

Some toss roses scentless, thornless.
Others shed fake, saltless tears.
Too much dirt was thrown already—
Mud enough for countless years.

Still, one mourner sits at graveside,
Watching this parade go by.
Folded flag clutched to her heart,
She doesn’t move; she doesn’t cry.

Open grave, a silent warning:
Watch your step as you draw near.
The earth in time will heal this wound,
Hope buried deep ‘neath grief and fear.

Choosing to Believe…Today


hands come together in prayer
to form a flame
bringing light to darkness

the flame dances
tracing flower petals in the air
a garden blooms in the night

let there be light
warming and illuminating
cutting and cauterizing

this light a focused flame
piercing and strong
this is the light we need

and with it love
a mother’s love
fierce and unforgiving

protecting the innocent
from predators ruled by hunger
for all that is not theirs

let this light guide us
let this love protect us
as we bring our hands together

in prayer

Locked Inside


I am not this
Not this heavy body
Not this thin skin
Not these tears cried
Listening to Irene Cara
Sing Out Here On My Own

I am not this
Not these tired hands
Not these sore feet
Not these pale lips
Disappearing as my smile
Fades to a crooked line

I am not this
Not these sensitive teeth
Not this short gray hair
Not these thick lenses in
Wireless frames that hide

I don’t know this
Person rocking alone
With a cat on her lap
This is not me
This is not all
All this

I am not this
Not just this
Yet all this
And not
I am
Not me

Reaching For Light

be longing

box by box
un-barricade the door
lock by lock
release, undo,
clear a path to
step out, face the sun
it’s bright out there
it burns
but life’s begun


be longing
be uplifted
be finally seen
be in your life
be more than just this dream
be longing
be a part not left alone
this heart of yours
is tough
so let it roam


lock by lock
each key a different shape
each memory of hurts
each bad mistake
box by box
your past kept neatly stored
each story when you failed
each hurtful word
push them all aside
the door swings free

be longing
be unstoppable
but be

Just Air

the Sound, the Silence, the Breath

If all I am to you
is these words,
what happens when I
forget to speak?

Will we be nothing
to each other
but the silence
in between our fights?

If all we are is
this bruised love,
what happens when we
forget to breathe?

Missed One, Back At It


Sleep well, my lost and lonely one,
Your secrets I hold dear.
I walk beside you in the night;
Your dream voice calls me near.
I know the secret pain you keep
Well-hidden under sheets,
So dust and dirt can’t settle thick
Obscuring your beliefs.

You hold onto the worst of men,
The hateful ones you’ve known.
You’ve taken on their anger,
And you call their sin your own.
Contempt has filled the spaces
Where your soul has cracked and dried.
You paint a pretty face on, but
There’s too much pain to hide.

Let me sit beside you,
As you sleep under the moon.
I’ll stay until you wake again,
When spirit calls to you.
Inside your broken heart there glows
An ember. Fan that flame.
Burn away your shroud and
Rise into the light again.
You’re more than just a plaything
For the angry little men.