Writing

What is Real - A Treatise on Death and Dying

Dying
moments of remembering
stories to be told
over and over and over
new details arising
with each telling
pain and itching
time spent in the garden
admiring the blooming
and the buzzing
and the changing colors
nerves firing intermittently
a sharp mind 
gone over to the world
of imagined things
some good
many wild and crazy
lumping bits of a life lived
with what's been read in a book
and what's presently real
names are forgotten
unable to find words

Poetry

A Love Letter

You are beautiful
your soul shines through your eyes
lighting the world around you
You care
with tenderness and humor 
and a wee bit of nudging
You take on more
don't sell yourself short
Your eyes are pools
of kindness and love
and that deep spirit
radiating into the world around you
You are smart
but never make others feel dumb
You have held on 
through the storms
being a pillar 
for those around you 
to cling to
You've held the family 

Poetry
Wild Heart

The Path of Spirit

I have lived a varied spiritual life. Before I started grade school, I lived between my Mom and my maternal grandparents. Once I started grade school, I moved permanently with my mom but we visited my grandparents often. My mother had joined the Catholic church and my grandmother was a Methodist. It depended on where we were and maybe my mood which church I'd go to on a Sunday.

What is Your Story?

I am finished telling myself I am a failure
that I never finish what I start
It's no longer true about me
I no longer wish to give that story life
I'm ready to build on a new story
One where I finished a book of poetry
One where I finished a beautiful herb garden
One where I've learned to say what I mean and what I feel
One where I talk about the tough stuff
One where I can surrender to what's right in front of me

Goodbye To The Old Year

For you, and for the lifetimes you’ve lived in one short year:
For the digging and the smoothing and the planting 
For placing herbs long grown in pots into their new home
For maintaining your own sanity amidst so much change
For taking on what you said you'd never do
For being love first
For learning you can do things you never thought you could
For finding the will to step beyond the wall
For surrendering to life and taking one day at a time
For putting love and care ahead of your own agenda

When Do You Feel Most Brave

And if I don't? 
bravery has been replaced
by survival
is it brave
to hold myself together
to walk this road
from life to death
to hold the hand
of one who is leaving
to look her in the eye
and know the end
it's all about time
letting go
while holding on
wanting to scream
but saying I love you
is it brave
to stay
when I want to run
to keep loving
when the embrace is cold
to stay
when I can no longer connect
I don't seem to have space

Poetry
Wild Heart
Grief, Death and Dying

What or Who Do You Need to Forgive To Be Free

Only myself
I've been blessed 
by the action of forgiveness 
I sat with my Grandmother
as she lay dying
In the quiet of the room
I experienced the grace
of forgiveness
for wrongs done
in my family of origin
Later, I found forgiveness
of the betrayal 
of one family member
to another
that left our lives
torn asunder
But to forgive myself
is a long and arduous journey
So many little moments
come to the forefront of my mind
stupid little things really

Poetry
Wild Heart

What Are The Truths Of Your Holy Body

she feels the wholeness of all things
she knows the pure joy of surrender
abused from the start
cared for on occasion
she continues on
she yearns for the lithe state
flexibility, movement, freedom
she feels things
she is the connection
to all that is
This holy body
holds the memories
of all that has passed
she's ready to release
surrender to the ecstasy and delight
feet grounded in the deep earth
arms spread in invitation
showers raining down
washing her clean

Poetry
Wild Heart

What Truth Would You Tell

Path at sunset

The only truth I know-
you can love
with all your heart
you can guide
gently or firmly
you can build
from the ground up
molding and nurturing
or slapping into shape
but in the end
you can't force another
to love themselves
to find value in being on this earth
you can't force them
to live life your way
you can tell them every day
how much you love them
but in the end
they have their own journey
their own road to walk
for better or worse
it's not up to you

Poetry
Wild Heart
Wisdom

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