stirring up the bottom

at any given moment the sediment settles

as the water stills

the solids drop to the bottom

if left alone they will build in layers

calcifying and becoming stone

for some future expert to point to the timeline of my now stony stories

but something moves the waters

it is you wading into murky depths

with no fear of the unseen below

you swim and dance, churning up the silt

your fingers swirl in the disturbance

making my story curl and unfold at your touch

The Water washes particulates down stream

and I am left, washed and healed.

via Daily Prompt: Churn

Foreboding Joy

anxious

perplexed

small and scared

with buttery fingers

and Teflon hands

I cannot hold the reality of this charity

and

I am terrified I will lose it

What is it to be happy

to be enraptured

to be swept away in wonder?

What is it to lean back into the bosom of tenderness?

I look at my hands

anxious

nervous

but then they are filled

and you hold tight

don’t worry Beloved,

I got you.

via Daily Prompt: Wonder

That that floats above me

two voices lift a song,

but they do not harmonize

the notes clatter

ping off the other

each reaching for me to hum along

one song has sharps, stuttering rests

 endlessly played demisemihemidemisemiquavers

punctuated crescendos that raise the noise to unendurable volumes

leaving me writhing in sorrow, shame and confusion

the other song was started before my birth

it is soft like the trees shaking loose their dew onto porch shingles

it does not compete with the other or manipulate my attention

but it is relentless

longsuffering

patient

kind

its tune carries my self, a rhythmic repeat of the shape of me

it is this tune that I reach my hands up to grasp

I listen for it even as the second songs raises its tempo in an attempt to  drown

When I sing along with the kind song, I have won

that moment

that day

or maybe this week

 

via Daily Prompt: Above

tomorrow

How would it be to know the future,

to know the path

to see the words before I choke on them

to make a plan most perfect

to have a life without trial

How it would be to side step the sorrow,

to never dry dampened eyes

to avoid the sting

to make a happy life

to have a life without grief

How it would be to hold the details

to all the tomorrows

to see the swell of change unfold

to make the decisive move

to have a premonition of bloom.

How will I work and pray into existence a tomorrow to behold?

by gratitude for the days unfolding

by seeing through the love that has been given even through the grief

by making peace and kindness my banner

by having silence befriend my anxious thoughts.

 

via Daily Prompt: Premonition

O2

I think I have hurt you

the infraction barely noticed

the weight of the matter can’t even be measured in grams,

but here I am with tears rolling.

and then they fall faster as I try to reign them in.

Don’t you cry!

You know better!

Are you so insecure?

Are you so infantile?

you hold me close

shhhh….Baby, that Voice is a liar.

tell me what the voice says…

The Voice says that you won’t be able to stay

that I will drive you away

that the me with scars is too much to love for long.

you cover my lips with yours and let me borrow your breath

I realize I have been holding my own

terrified that I will exhale a torrent.

do you know that I won’t leave?

Your oxygen and compassion enter my cells,

I begin to warm

yes.

my mind and my heart are moving to align and then,

then I will feel what I know.