Brown yellow rusted pages
None read
None would for ages
Lying on the pave

Blurred is the title and name
Lost dream and never born fame
Wisdom of long bearded sages
Dumped in the grave

Dusty old forgotten write
Feasted upon by termite
What to author full of sense
Fetch not any pence

Should I buy take home to read
Not treat it like just **** ****
Spend some time in smelling old
See if bring some gains?

yesterday's class involved
serving the suicide caller
if you know me
you may suspect that I have met this issue
a time or two before
some days I looked it in the mirror

there was real struggle
on several faces around the room
everybody reneged on last night's plans
nobody felt like playing games
being social

I wandered off
sat at the lake
watched the water in the reservoir
placid and blue-green
and wandered back to sit
in my room

the pied piper of somewhere
wandered down the hall with a guitar
and we all followed
sang songs for a couple of hours
make a joyful noise
is sometimes the best therapy

and after the pied piper
and all the merry girls disappeared
back down the hall
two very real conversations
snuck up on me
out of the blue

it will take some time
to digest all the information
sometime after midnight
a text came to my phone
with the message
"be still, and know that I am God"

my job may be to rescue the perishing
but there is someone who will rescue me

i've been wanting to say
i love you

all three words, one after another, each word pronounced distinctly
it's been so long unsaid
i might start to spill over a little

spewing i love you's

to the cat and the neighbor's dog and the little old lady behind me in the grocery store

folks might start to look at me strange

maybe i better save them all up
one heart's treasure trove
for brighter days

i am finding my life
in small stitches
lately

mending the hem
on a pillowcase

darning the hole
in a sock

patching a hole
in well-worn sheets

i am finding my life
in small stitches
lately

until i have the energy
to make larger seams

i have about three
memories from my childhood
more or less

my brain vault
is a bottomless black hole
of good and bad
that never seems to yield
anything

but once in a while
i remember
a chubby boy in a brown coat
with beautiful blue eyes
on the second grade school bus

he moved away soon after

i met him again
as a teenager
and he was a thin
adonis model
with long blonde hair

so maybe i have
four memories
more or less

maybe i should
write it down
before i lose it

the first time i met him
after sixteen absent years
was at the Pinnacles.

it was a good place he said -
i walked into his arms
and time melted away.

maybe too much time

when we climbed to the top
he talked to a stranger
and i sat on a rock
soaking up the November sun.
i heard drums in the distance
they wrapped me up in a memory

the next time
i hiked with my daughters
i got dizzy
felt like i was falling
my heart in my throat.
when the feeling cleared
my daughters had hold of me
asking if i was okay.

a few years later
invited to a journey workshop
i fell off the cliff again
in my shower this time.
i held onto the wall
so i wouldn't be lost to gravity.

and later that day
in the workshop
i saw the whole grisly scene
my warrior husband
lying on the ground
broken baskets and busted pots
my tribe demolished
the enemy advancing

it all became clear
i felt the fear
of being taken
and i jumped

I wandered through dreams
this morning.

Walking and walking.

And all of a sudden
I heard the door open
at the bottom of the stairs
-in a house I haven't
lived in since I was twelve-

and a female voice
called my name

it sounded so very
familiar
but I can't
quite
place it

maybe a clue
to lost memories?

As though the pains of yesterday
Could tell us who we were.
We stood tall against tragedy,
We stood strong against pain.
But we will always ever be human.
One-fifth destined by fate,
Four-fifth by our own sheer will.
Only by standing should we know,
Who we are now opposed to,
Who we were

i loved you
and i love you still.
you never did,
you never will.