There is this space that exists inside.
In between my ribs and just under my heart.
It's not in a place to constantly remind me of its presence there.
But it does get nudged from time to time.
It holds onto things I've tried to rise above, to let go of...
But never fully doing so.

Things like negativity and doubt and stubbornness...
Like self esteem bruising childhood judgements.
Like bitter regret of missing out on "I love you" before someone dies.
Like ignorant teenage decisions there was no reason to be making.
Like that secret you told and the one you promised to keep.
Like dutifully cleaning up after destruction since it was easier than starting over new.
Like the coltish grace of learning to be a woman without one.
Like leading a child with having no direction of your own.
Like taking that last piece.
Like hoping karma takes over.
Like waiting for a sign before walking away from toxic people.
Like throwing your heart out there with only faith and hope to be its wings.
Like innate fear of being alright with who you truly are.
Like disappointment for taking all these years to figure yourself out.

Those are some things that rattle around on a quiet and calm night.
On a night that finally arrives after strenuous days bleeding together...
They ghost in and remind you they're still there.
It used to terrorize the still moments when that happened.
No control over the flood of images and empathy associated with each and every reminder.  
I thought it was in times like that, when drowning with the sorrows of yesterday was just as easy as an exhale.

But I was wrong...
I was mislead in my own thoughts.
Because when I was tapped on the shoulder by history.
It wasn't trying to hold me back.
It wasn't intending to maim my conscious.
I believe in fact, it just simply wanted to show progress.
To show the "then", compared to the "now"
How every piece of who I am today was shaped and structured in part, to everything I haven't let go of yet.
How do you know when your soul is weaker than strong but mighty enough to fight?

In being made to contemplate all the wonderful and fulfilling things and parts of who we are,
We also have to give credit to the dark pieces
The events and people that have burdened and burnt but never destroyed.
Like any balance in life we acknowledge both light and shadow.
Appreciation of the good in our lives is more fluid when we have proof of the struggles we've overcome.

Be it years ago or hours,
Seeing how far you've come from that which had held you under or has trampled your spirit.
It helps enlighten bit by bit.
And a step at a time is how we all move forward into who we're meant to be.

So i think, that space that exists very close to my heart but just far enough away...
I think I'm okay with it being there.
It may hold scars in the eyes of others
But I know scars are just golden reminders;
Of that which make us stronger.
For if one has no scars, what has one conquered?



©NDHK

I wonder if people
Realize
how telling me I'm
Strange
is less of an
Insult
and more of a
Compliment
to my odd little
Heart.



©NDHK

..............................................................

I've climbed my world of trees today,
Before they had to go their way.
Before the sunlight met the sea,
Each tree I saw called out to me.

The green green tree with boughs of steel
Was pure and utterly ideal.
And I climbed quick as a whippoorwill
Springing from the window seal.

I climbed it grand, and oh, so high-
Through the thrush's song,  and a robin's cry.
Through the deepest green that caught the day,
And promised to steal me away.

And I climbed a Monkey Puzzle Tree
As old as half a tree can be.
And it laughed to see me rustle through
Branches old and branches new.

I sailed through leaves as soft as lent,
Where spiral blossoms lept to play
Fragrant little games of chance
Within the haunt of their bouquet.

When the tall, tall, red tree called my name,
The one with pepper blossoms high,
And since no two trees are the same
I followed this one to the sky.

Up through branches bathed in light,
And down through tunnels in the bark,
I climbed this one with all my might,
Through the gray and winding dark.

Until I found my afternoon
Still waiting for me like the day.
I gave the tree a bit of heart
And watched it as it sailed away.

And there, beyond the Tin Tin Tree,
Where apple roses blossomed grand,
I noticed resting on its knee
The finest tree to ever stand.

A hundred, hundred trees in one,
Would be an awful lot of fun
Just to take a branch today
And rest the afternoon away,

But, Oh, I had to climb it high,
As high as God could make a sky.
I had to see the stars that He
With clever skill hid well from me.

I had to touch the setting sun,
Under my after-evening's shroud,
So up I went, through branches, bows,
Crossing leaves that laughed aloud.

Leaves that seemed to know my name,
That weaved their winding whispers through
That starlit flicker of a flame
I tried but could not look into.

I swung from branches tapped by age,
That creaked and echoed such a sigh-
The feathered leaves that rustled calm,
And I so briefly saw my sky.

There I paused and held my own,
My heart like thunder in my chest.
And I watched the quiet of the day
Paint ribbons in a robin's nest

And scatter shades of blue and red
Like waves upon my quiet sea,
And those threaded vines of dragons head
That weaved in through my Shadow Tree.

The morning bowed to afternoon,
As if to nature's sole command,
And shades and shadows drifted by
That secret place I chose to stand.

There were stars that climbed each peasant branch,
Stars that whispered to the breeze
That beat a hymn of ages past,
Known only to the trees.

Will-O'-The-Wisp's sang through the leaves
And danced about the sapwood sprig,
Darting here and pausing there,
Between each shadowed, lively twig,

Where EverNettles bright as dreams
Climbed deep inside the deadwood bark,
And called their young ones earnestly
To the safety of the dark.

And finally spent I caught my breath,
And peeled the spindly leaves away,
And waved my arms into the breeze
That sang the silvered songs of day.

There was a different world below,
A land of hills and river beds,
Of trees as tiny as the grass,
And roads smaller than the finest threads.

I reached out into the velvet sky
To run my fingers through the day,
Where the sandy silk of autumn brushed
The stardust noon had tossed my way.

And I breathed in all the wonder there -
All I could hear and feel and see,
Whatever wonder dared to share
From the branches of my Shadow Tree.


Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler

.............................................................­...
"There is always Music amongst the trees in
the Garden, but our hearts must be very quiet
to hear it."
~Minnie Aumonier
.............................................................­.