poetry

When They Say The War Is Over

beauty, Faith, hope, poetry, Uncategorized

When they say the war is over

The tears will burst forth from my eyes

Tears of happiness,

Relief,

And of thankfulness.

We will all come out of hiding

From our homes.

The doors will burst open

We’ll all run out into the street.

There will be dancing,

Laughter,

And embracing.

We’ll hug our neighbors,

Our friends,

The family we’ve been separated from.

Tears will be shed,

When we give each other the biggest

Most heartfelt hug…

For, we know.

We know what we’ve been through,

Apart,

But yet,

Together.

There will be a newfound appreciation

For embraces,

Quiet conversations with friends at a coffee shop,

Feeling comfort in a crowd.

For all the things we’d taken for granted

We will now cling to

And savor.

There will be a thirst

Finally quenched.

All that was lost

Will be found

Grieving will give way to healing

And understanding.

A fire will have been ignited

Within our souls

A lust for life,

Found again.

When the war is over,

We’ll remember our pain,

The tears we cried,

The angry shouts

Inside the confines of our walls.

But, that will only be a page

In the story.

For,

When the war is over,

We’ll remember the beauty

We found along the way.

When time slowed to a screeching halt,

Some of us dizzy from the lost momentum

From our frenzy and frenetic pace of before.

We’ll remember planting seeds

In the garden.

Sunflowers and lavender

Growing and blooming before our eyes

In the season of slow,

Still.

Of watch and wait.

And we’ll remember planting seeds

Of hope.

To our family, friends . . .

To those across the world.

We’ll remember the heroes,

The ones who told us to have faith,

To hope,

Dream,

Believe.

When the war is over,

We will laugh again.

And we will remember

What it’s like to live,

Again.

Freedom

Faith, lifestyle, poetry, Uncategorized

“Land! I see land!”

My eyes behold the distant shore. 

This boat I’ve been on, 

Has been my home. 

Rocking me to and fro.

Gently, 

And mercilessly. 

It’s carrying me along, 

But I’m stuck

Within its confines. 

The sea rages, 

And it calms. 

Then thunderously screams, 

“Hear me roar!”

As it crashes against my boat.

The warning of the sea

Keeps me within. 

I’m a weary sailor

Sailing the unrelenting waters

For far too long.

Seasick.

Alone on the ocean,

I’ve felt.

My compass is broken. 

Its failed me.

I know not which way to go, 

Or what to do.

But, then,

My eyes behold it. 

Land!

Will my boat reach it, 

Safely?

And then, I know.

Instinctually, 

I stop resisting. 

My tight grip on the wheel

Loosens,

White-knuckled and clenched, 

My hands finally soften.

I let the wind

Lead me. 

Guide my sails. 

Effortlessly, 

My boat glides gracefully

Upon the land. 

I am stunned.

I made it! 

Now what?

I stand there, 

Paralyzed.

I cannot get out of the boat. 

Safety

Is right outside, 

All I have to do is

Step out. 

Shaking, 

I at last get out. 

The sand is firm. 

Solid ground. 

Grounded. 

Steady.

Shaking . . . I am still,

But the earth holds me.

Welcomes me home.

The wind whispers 

Through the trees, 

“You’re safe.” 

One foot in front of the other.

It’s time now.

Time to run, 

Not in fear. 

But like a wild child, 

An explorer who has 

Discovered a new land. 

Run forward.

Don’t look back.

Run to the future. 

Arms wide open,

I welcome you. 

I laugh as tears 

Fall at the same time. 

Tears of happiness, 

Of Knowing. 

Because I’ve been here before. 

I stood at this place, 

Once upon a time. 

Everything that had caged me in, 

Is gone. 

And I laugh, because I’m no longer frightened. 

I’m no longer lost.

I’ve found land.

Remember Who You Are

beauty, inspiration, lifestyle, poetry, Uncategorized

I Remember. 

I remember who I was. 

As a little girl and as a young woman.

I’ve always been a free spirit.

I was the one sitting on the swings in college, journal and pen in hand, and gazing dreamily up at the clouds peacefully swirling gently across the sky.

The daydreamer. 

The romantic.

Smiling at the flowers. 

Pocahontas talking to the trees. 

Singing out loud, 

Not caring if anyone heard me. 

Imaginative. 

Getting lost in books of make-believe worlds that became real to me. 

Imagining of living in Middle Earth, where elves and hobbits were no myth or legend. 

I’m an Adventurer. 

I’m the one who thinks “too much”. 

Who feels “too much”. 

The one who loves deeply with all of her heart, 

And yet fears to love with everything, 

Afraid of losing that which she loves. 

I’m the little girl who played with dolls, 

And also made mud-pies baked in the sun, 

And climbed trees bare foot. 

I’m a dreamer.

A wanderer. 

A traveler. 

A lover of the mystery. 

Of new. 

New places.

New faces. 

Stories. 

Tell me your story, please, 

And I’ll tell you mine. 

I have a way of laughing

That makes my nose crinkle 

And I sometimes even snort 

When something really makes me laugh.

 

I’m a believer.

In Magic. 

In miracles. 

In dreams coming true. 

“Remember who you are,”

Mufasa, with love, sternly reminds his son, Simba, 

In “The Lion King”. 

That scene has always been so powerful to me.

God, with love, sternly reminds me, 

“Remember who you are,”

As I gaze up at the clouds again. 

Maybe I’ve forgotten, along the way.

Because, well, Life. 

Life happened. 

Somewhere along the journey, 

The hard stuff happened. 

The pain. The loss. The fight. The battle. 

The trauma. The broken heart.

 

“Look harder…” 

Rafiki told Simba as he looked into the water. 

Look harder, 

And you’ll see her again. 

You’ll catch glimpses, 

Of You. 

The you before all the pain. 

She’s still there. 

I don’t see her all the time. 

But, I remember. 

The dreamer, the gypsy, the romantic, care-free spirit. 

Who would love to get caught up in the rain, 

And dance, 

And laugh so hard 

That that crinkle nose can be seen again. 

Who dreams of a wildflower wreath on her head, 

Her hair blowing in the wind

As she rides bare-back on a horse. 

A horse that is just as wild and free

As she is. 

I Remember. 

I remember who I was. 

I am still all those things.

 

I will not forget. 

The Seed

inspiration, poetry, Uncategorized

Ascending.
Rising above.

Heart fragile.
You will not break it.

I feel it.
This rising.
Rising above.
Do not hold me down.

Planted.
Growing.
Trying,
Trying to grow.

Growth does not happen
Without pain.
Pain.
Hurts to grow,
But hurts to stand still.

Fighting,
Pushing,
Pushing through this shell
Barricading me from the sun.
I long for the light.
Long to see it,
Feel it.

Change.
I am rising.
I am breaking,
Breaking free.
Splintering through the layers
To become.
Out of the hiding.
Away from the dark earth.

Now, I am Rising.
Now you will see me.

Watch me.
Watch me grow.
Out of my way!
Breaking free.

Time.
Time to blossom.
To produce forth fruit,
Goodness.
For the fragrant flowers
To permeate the air.
Fruit.
Life.
Beauty.
This is my Destiny.
I know what I can offer
It is within me.
I blossomed once, or twice,
Once upon a time.
Then retreated,
Back into the earth.

Deep in the earth,
It’s Dark.
Cold. Lonely.
Suffocating.
A stagnant seed.
Potential.
Waiting.
Waiting for the right time.

The water flows down,
Washes over me.
I hear the gardener,
His voice,
Calling.
Gently whispering,
Then speaking,
Breathing,
Life into existence.

“It’s time now,”
He says.

Ascending.
Rising above.
The shell,
Gone.
The earth
I have broken through.
It lies below me
As I rise.

Freedom.
The sun.
Light, again.
Life,
Adrenaline courses through my veins.
Arms extending,
Leaves forming.
Transforming.
Transcending.
Flowers on my arms,
Blossoms bursting into bloom.
Too many to count.
Counting my blessings,
Admiring the fruit
And the flowers that are now me.

You did not stop me
From growing
From becoming.

I am Free.
I am me.
Now let me be.