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Must we endure guilt’s futility;
To take stock of our soul’s condition and
To release all unnecessary spoil, to
Be comforted by our Maker’s redeeming love?
Or

Must we endure guilt’s futility;
To take stock of our soul’s condition and
To release all unnecessary spoil?
Or rather, be comforted by our Maker’s redeeming love,
And release guilt’s siren.
We both agree that we want to keep it pure
as it used to be -- not a makeover or nostalgic
stroll, but unencumbered from what has been.
Uninhibited --
seeing our true faces anew.

When we seem to hurt each other we agree
that we only want to lift the heaviness that
weighs us down –
carefully shaping words to cut the strings

that drag the weight through the generations
so we can learn from past mistakes and not let
mutations mutate our love.
                                                           ­ 
Peace be still my love.
My peace is not here
as yet, but you have it within your reach.
Drop the weight
and grasp the lightness!

Maybe mine will come sooner if you stop
mourning my darkness and follow your own
light that has always been there--
sometimes hidden
behind the horizon--
but it has always been there.

Let it glow as it used to --
not human-formed
or reflected beams but uninhibited from what
has been. Not obscured, but seeing us anew.
          
Please see that I can see that you
have the power to be set free.
Then maybe my peace will arise within me sooner.
Then maybe my spirit and mind will heal sooner.
©2024 Daniel Irwin Tucker

Notes:
This is a love poem that I wrote for my wife. Poems on marital relationships can be a sensitive matter. This is why I am adding these notes. Firstly, this work does not speak of physical or emotional violence. The 2nd stanza uses the word "hurt". In the context of this poem, it means working out problems in our relationship with complete honesty "carefully shaping words to cut the strings that drag the weight..." Again, 'hurt' in the context of this poem, is talking openly, honestly and frankly about what makes us tick; but we NEVER hit below the belt (that is when it hurts!) We respect each other and are best friends. She is also a strong woman. We've used this technique exclusively since we got married in our teens decades ago. We just say it like it is to each other. But it is NEVER dealt out in a mean spirit.
 3d Lila
Sora
I wish for him to know
The profundity of my affection

I wish he could behold
The exuberance he bestows upon me
With little more than his smile

I desire for him to comprehend
The fervor he has rejuvenated within me

I wish he could feel
The heat of the blaze
He has artfully reignited

I hoped he would heed
The harmonious melodies of my heart
Yet, regrettably,
his senses
Are but tuned
to mere echoes
 3d Lila
Emma
You lean on me, the horizon you forget to name.

I hold the weight of your storms,

turning them into songs the earth understands.

When I am gone, the wind grows teeth,

and your words, sharp as broken shells, scatter.

Yet I remain, woven into the weave of your breath,

an ache, a promise, a steady drumbeat of love.
Don't you just hate this feeling...
If love makes the world goes round,
why does hate have the most hits online?
The story of revolution
the glory of Che
The fury of wander
a doctor’s foray

Silver spoon of his birth
the high noon of choice
A tune peasants cling to
that force in his voice

Daring insurrection
then falling from grace
Each stalling acceptance
a rebel’s embrace

His legend in khaki
a friend to the weak
Unbending in spirit
— both joyous and bleak

(Dreamsleep: December, 2024)
casts huge leaf shadows on dirt
and the mockingbird's mocking me.

"mockingbird,"
I put my hands in my pocket
and pretend a smile,
"some things you can't out run,
church bells and a wedding dress,
funeral processions and baptisms,
the cop car radio,

she was so beautiful in her wedding dress,"

I'm pointing my finger up at the mockingbird,
"so I'm a few steps ahead of you in heartache,

it was a toss of the dice,"I tell the bird,

"I threw a handful of rice."

"so don't look sad at me, bird.
everyone gets hurt."

and on her branch in the sycamore tree
the mockingbird's crying to me...

"I'm a few years ahead you...
Sweet One, lonely bird.

I've walked through fire,
stared into the wall of shadow and sorrow
into the cold silence of tomorrow.

I hear what you're telling me, Dear One,
loves been a little ******* you, too,

and there in illusion lies the danger
so please be kind, my friend,

the sorrows that never seem to fade away
become the grey, dark sea,
and sunlight through the Sycamore tree.
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