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Oh the toll of a broken family
I see it in the way she sits
Curled into herself, disappearing
Pushed into expectations she'll never fit
Shards of her broken heart, ******
Piercing the lungs in which she needs
As I watch her **** her imperfections
Thinking that they were solely weeds
She's drifting to the world unknown
While I watch her fade away
So I pray for the girl to my left
Never knowing quite what to say
to the ******* my left
it's okay to not be perfect
imperfections aren't bad
it's what makes you human
and to anyone else who may be struggling
the same goes to you
just be yourself
that alone is
perfect
An orange sun decends low mountain
shadows climb high the snowy crags
small birds disappear into silent forest
a beeswax candle lites near a cabin window

the inkstone wetted, the brush drinks deep
flowing slow strokes of evening's lament
when heart yearns and love relents
every tremble a storytelling twilight sleep

-cec
~

a gateway approaches,
from just  'round the bend;
in this march of months,
that are nearing the end.
here autumn's shedding,
of its shimmering gown;
from sun-kissed warmth,
under broad leafy boughs;
where in shady spaces,
summrr's solace is found!
but now comfort is sought,
in gazing within, and
in harvesting thoughts,
'neath sun-starved skin;
where if we are wise,
care will be taken,
to channel our musing,
into gratitude's music.
carefully shaping,
the sum of our notes;
stringing our lines, in
a score full of hope!
preparing the soul,
for the wintery chill;
compelling the spirit, to
see life through goodwill!
a courageous knowing,
finds a way to be still; in
the altitude of gratitude,
an antidote to winter's pill!
for in the zenith of night,
come the sounds of lullaby;
and in the absence of light,
whispers of a coming cheer.
solitary voices blending,
to the rythmn of a beat;
a heavenly choir singing,
a chorus growing strong;
opening the season's door,
illuminating advent's song!

~

in post script

these musings represent muliple seasons of observations, soul considerations in how to articulate what my heart knows to he true. so with every year that ages this soul, i become more convinced that the season of thanksgiving may in fact be the very greatest antidote for selfishness, a precursor for advent, the season of giving and receiving;.and that if approached properly, our hearts are best positioned to embrace the truest meanings of the coming season of light!

sending peace and love to those who embrace these walls as sacred space!
~For Pradip~
who reminded me:
We are all God’s Trial & Errors


tender is the tendency,
so finitely human,
infinitely foolish,
to overlook the
obvious,
let us not delve into our
particular peculiar idiosyncratic knots
in our hair and personalities,
all natural,
inherited or ill begotten
in voyages to far away,
like our childhood

Thus,
we are all mistakes of a sort


with natural fault lines,
accumulated dings, scapes, bruises,
furrowed crinkles that took us
years to perfect

We are flawed like diamonds,
valued by these natural flaws
by graders with loups who uncover
our flaunts, our clear air bubbles,
the more flaws the better,
because these attributes make us
most interesting!

you may be blonde,
you may be exotic
perhaps a lovely shade of
iridescence,

but lucky you whose scars speak
out and others wonder why,
they are so interesting

let us design a large animal,
seemingly ungainly, yet keystone to
their environment, so others may
profit thereby,
yet insanely quick on lumbering feet,
no hands, fingers, but a long snakey thinge
that multiple functions  for
breathing, drinking, feeding grabbing, smelling and
trumpeting their presence
to foolish beings in their neighborhood

let’s us not debate
whose design is
an efficacy par excellence

so we be
ungainly, too tall, too
this or that,
even too flawless,
a specialized curse of sorts,
we are the product of
a sophisticated design laboratory
that makes many models,
each variegated, always different

so get down on your knees *******,
and praise the design engineers
who created you to be
full of
& by elephantine trials and elephantine errors,
thereby making
us each,
a special pronoun,
an I
blessed
by definition:
though not in any dictionary:
unique,
flawless!


^you are the most
flawless poem
you have ever written
and will ever ever
write
thank you Senor Pradip

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4727383/elephants-spring-to-mind/
<>

Elephants are keystone species that play a critical role in seed dispersal, providing nourishment, water, and suitable habitat for all other plants and animal communities in the ecosystem. They are also known as 'ecosystem engineers' as they push over trees to maintain savanna ecosystems, excavate waterholes and fertilise land, which helps other animals thrive.
Big trees

Get uprooted 

When a storm comes, the grass 

Survives because it's very small.

My Faith

Also protects me from life storm.

Though small as mustard seed 

My faith still wins. 

Big deal
A butterfly cinquain, also known as a mirror cinquain, is a type of cinquain poem that has nine lines and a specific word or syllable pattern. The syllable count for a butterfly cinquain is two, four, six, eight, two, eight, six, four, two.
When these
Three
Words are said,
There's
Many thoughts
Inside my
Head

So out of respect,
Not thinking
You're
Correct

"I don't know"

Not made a
Definitive
Conclusion,
Sorry to cause
Confusion

"I don't know"

Some take offence,
Time to
"Get off the fence"
But life
Is
Long,  
Pondering
The mystery
Of The
Song

The tune can
Lead you
Anywhere,
Eventually I'll
Get
There.


Song- Hank Williams, “Ramblin’ Man”
It's that day today
When evil mystery waits to strike
And nothing happens.
Of course you’ll
miss them,
And songs
will remind you
Of them,
and the color  of
A strangers eyes,
and the pattern
The shadows
create while
You are on shrooms,
You were happy once,
Under incoming fire
And quarantine, in
The sky or on boat,
Undressed, and that’s
Not a pretty sight,
But they loved it,
They loved you,
And that’s not
Easy to forget.
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