Raindrops forget to
drop
a drop
dropping slowly
the rain forgets to stop
stop
plop
a plop of blood in the ocean of firestorm
now death opened
like an unturned boat in the
middle of the world
to receive the last plummet of hope,
last blessing
in a humane drop from above
above
the above has
no rain for the next season
the winds are afraid to return.

i am not a stranger to hopelessness
it is easy to get tired of waiting
for what you want but won’t come
like love
like a hand to hold
the time when arms hold you instead of your arms holding others
like love
the feeling that everyone else (it seems)
but you
knows
it is easy to believe it will never come
but we keep waiting, don’t we?
we wake up every morning,
we give thanks,
we live,
we listen for the song of the birds
and sing back to them, “maybe today,”
and at night when the stars come out
we still dare to make wishes upon them
keeping our options open
hoping
hoping
hoping

even when wiping away tears,

you ridicule me about how there’s bigger things for me

to cry about.

My love
is lonely
my loneliness
is breathing
my breath
is free
my freedom
is sleeping
my sleep
is Me
finding myself
amidst a
bunch of
leaves or
souls that
fell in
love once
and never
recovered from
the fall
or falling.

holding my baby’s feet
i’d count the little toes
1,2..4..7,8..10
one day these feet’ll walk miles to find who she is
and possibly stumble across a potential lover..
smoothing my baby’s hair
i only hope she learns to appreciate herself quicker
than her mother did.
caressing her ears
i fear of the criticism of foolish school children
that will bring her down even on days where it seems like things can’t get any worse.
all swaddled, she’d giggle in her sleep and off she dozes..
i’d kiss her forehead and whisper

i promise i will try my best to raise you better than i was