She peeked into the sky as if she didn’t belong. Hiding her face during the day, only to appear at dusk, in all of her magnificent, unknowing beauty. Tip toeing into the horizon, she watches for the bright fire to dim his glow as he sinks in the sky. Compared to such a bright flame, her glow feels faded and remains unnoticed. Oh, but when that bright, hot flame takes his evening leave, she is able to bloom into her full strength, opening her eyes to the world again – lighting the way for those that prefer the darkness. People gaze in awe at her beauty while she sits silently in the Universe – unaware of the way we wish to graze her surface – know her thoughts or how we wait each day just to catch another glimpse of her smile. Still the shy moon falls each morning, chased away by the fire. She waits patiently, silently for her time to shine once again.
Dear Sister There will be times That we won’t see eye to eye As you know I do love a good argument But my love for you will never change
Our differences can be vast They can cause tensions Even quite a bit of emotion But my love for you will never change
If I become upset Rest assured I have to say what is on my mind There is more room out in the world Than there is inside our my mind But my love for you will never change
Sister I will always be a stubborn one But I will always be there to back you up I will always be the kind that picks and teases But I’ll be there for you when you want to give up
Sister I know you may not agree with me But there are two different lenses in which we see Our views will vary Our logics may not be the same But please know, my love for you is not a game.
I’ll keep that light on even if you decide to leave When you grow cold or alone Please know you can come to me My love you for will never change For you’re my sister And my heart carries your name.
She healed my soul with threads of herself and left the longing of her beautiful lips as she pulled away the pain and replaced it with her love.
She tucked it away into the dark corners inside of me and it lit a path to hope.
Little did I know that when she unraveled, so would the threads in which she used to stitch my soul and the lantern she left to burn would be snuffed out. Leading me back into a darkness darker than before, void of sound unlike before and full of fearful dread.
She healed my soul with threads of herself and left the longing of her beautiful lips as she pulled away the pain and replaced it with her love.
She tucked it away into the dark corners inside of me and it lit a path to hope.
Little did I know that when she unraveled, so would the threads in which she used to stitch my soul and the lantern she left to burn would be snuffed out. Leading me back into a darkness darker than before, void of sound unlike before and full of fearful dread.
The story really never ends. Though the happy ending cuts the scene of your favorite movie, you’re left out on what really happens next.
Things go on, despite our knowledge. The world becomes busy. Vehicles crowd the high ways. People go to work. The side walks are crowded with feet, hurrying to their final destination. Passing the same woman five times in a week, as she holds out her hand for a few measly coins to be dropped. She is invisible. The story never really ends.
Infinite connections, boundless alterations to any story changes from moment to moment. Like the books with alternate endings, depending on the path you choose. Life may circle back and you’re to choose again.
Over and over again, making the choice. Making the statements with your voice. Once is not enough, it must be said again. Stand your ground. Don’t disappear within. Be present. The story doesn’t end. The movie stops but their life just begins.
Say we died but that pain ripples through many others. The story grew. The sorrow the heartache and the moments of good times. The story doesn’t end, it just begins to unwind. Faucets of laughter, even tears and joy. The story didn’t end. The memories were deployed.
Here goes that crappy first draft that they always say to jump right into. So, why writing? For me it is more about freedom of expression. It is a way to throw down all of those words that do not make sense in my mind and then re-read it all later to have that final “Ah-Ha!” moment, or in retrospect, perhaps a “Oh Damn” moment. In 2020, I have had many of those latter moments.
For me, writing began during high-school. That’s right. Those amazing early 2000’s. My journal overflowed with every thought that did and didn’t make any sense at all. Doodles from front to back, on the covers, down the spines and throughout the pages as an expression of my emotions littered the lines after most paragraphs. What I wouldn’t give to hold some of those journals again and read through my adolescent mind of self-doubt and turmoil as the adult that I am today.