Forme-ing Words That Make Me Strong
Love. Cloud. Dream.
Sequoia trunk ascending.
Rescinding aura racing body type
Questioning Water. Fire. Light.
Imagining just what might
Be blundering Rhyme Scheme
Wrong and right.
Should I submit to you?
Fly or fight?
Uncertain what to assertain
I do…in waiting, crying, trusting you
Trusting that you will entreat what’s best
Now you must know me better….
Than the rest or even me.
I must be.
In being Write by me
in making marks I’m something more than some.
In this I am. I have a voice
A choice in someone who “can.”
So I’ll exist…in my resisting
I’m good at this.
Must be a core belief
Could be a lie
Not willing yet to change this thing
Devoid of giving over will
And yet I want to try still
As this the law
of God, and Man, and Mother Nature
to be reduced
Recycled, reused, refused.
Or else…No pain
No feeling. Sunless skies.
No rain. No divine proof
No whispering the name of youth.
No name except for dust
No wind for all errosion taking
Or waves….or Summer makings
For goodness saking
or shimmering Hellos
in Autumn Aspen quakings
Only to wash up in Goodbyes
On fallen, drowning swollen eyes
It’s no surprise I’m salty
and made for this
that in the end I’m still and silent
A foreign mermaid suppliant
in lonely pic nic ing
lieing prone upon the desert sand
few living drops in hand…
I understand the whack pack spanking
And somehow I am thanking you for owls.
Lowest, closest to my Source,
to my true and humblest self
It’s been a long time since I entertained this sad companion
A whispy, raspy, labored last and final breath
And what if…
In eating apples upside down
For what it’s worth in worms
Of course I will not choke
This is a sick repeating riddle or a joke
In eating shriveled chokecherries
and bounding down the mountain
in chewing stems and seeds
in your approach
At least I ‘d like to think……
I’m swallowing a kinder peace.
I breath relief for a short moment.
I want to smile. To thank you.
This not my cue, but still I want to.
Can not. Won’t.
In leeryness I’ve learned to cry much better now.
I used to be so good at smiling.
I’d like to think no more reproach
No more pride. No anger for me
Inside of you
In SOPs of loving self too much
This I know…
Please know that I am sorry.
I never meant to harm you… only love.
It would feel so much better now in starting new.
To think I could have even touched
the hem of flapping wings
in writing rave reviews
in gifting things
I thought I’d found a freedom
and a friend in loving you
In the end…..simply not true.
You found a demon in me.
In watching others come and go to you
could only hope to be them. I think,
This thing is dead awaiting resurrection.
Have really only forged these chains.
And now I dangle more deranged
Like tarnished broken keys upon the wall.
the Master’s plan I’m sure
still I am jingling jangling in singeing sand
in the teasing and the sentencing
Reminded of my place here on the hill.
Somehow I know
I never should have thought myself
an equal, or a playmate, or ……
a writer to you.
Still, I am sure that you’ll find form for me
in some Creation you have yet to speak
In framing a design for these my weaknesses
You’ll make me strong…….I think.
And I will love you for it.
You look at me
I don’t know what to think
and so I don’t.
Just choke in unbelief
Just hold it down
What use in hoping now
I don’t know if there ever was
And yet, “We” have undone me
And I’m reduced to silent Thank Yous
in this humbling.