The sound of conversation from another room
   muffled soft by walls and doors.
   voices
   of comfort and security,
Childhood memories of my mother and father
Up late with dear friends
as indiscernible words and conversation and laughter became
a comforting lullaby
For I was down the hall in bed with my cowboy sheets and brown blanket  
Their voices, a mighty oath of safety and protection
against the monsters that hide at night in the closets and dark corners of children's rooms
Children who get to make believe their monsters
I got to make believe my monsters
And they were no match for my fathers laughter or my mothers offer for more coffee.

And I think of you out there
Who did not make believe your monsters.
For whom the voices reaching bedtime ears were coarse and menacing, angry and cursing,
  And sounds that children should not hear
unfamiliar words, but their meaning unmistakable.
Mothers crying and fathers yelling, strange men threatening
At tender age, the familiar smell of alcohol  portending danger
You need not make believe your monster
For the roaring, and snarling, all too real
     was just outside your bedroom.
     having consumed  mommy and daddy already, it was coming for you
And perhaps, still does

"It's going to be snowing"
I hate it when your doomsday predictions are right.
But now that you are, I wish you were here.
And in the dark with a sharp wind I'm blinded
and driving home, alone.
When I flip on the high beams, it looks like hyperdrive kicked in and we made the jump to light speed.
But there is no "we" and I'm alone, going home, at thirty-five
Which feels a little risky.
If you were here, you.'d tell me to slow down... So annoyingly.
But, at least it would be your voice
With 20 degrees in my vision field, the world may just as well have evaporated.
And driving home without you, it feels like it too.
If I was a hound, I'd smell my way through this night.
like infrared for my nose.
But all I smell is the half eaten banana and the cheap pine car scent
hanging from the rear view mirror like its some thing anyone would want to look at
Why did you put that there?  
Why do I make these trips alone, without you?
My hands are sweaty. I can tell I'm gripping the wheel too tight.  
I'm tense and losing perspective of the road, my speed,
the snow flakes on the windshield start to command my attention.  
I'm looking only 18 inches in front of me.
I need to relax - pretend like I'm drunk so if I wreck, I may not get hurt as much
I wish you were here.  Your fear would ground me.
Instead, my fear imperils me.
We're that way.
Better together, in a snowy night, on a lonely road.
Heading home.
.

You save them,
And then they save you.
Worthy motto not for Puppy Mill Rescue alone.
I find,
That loves economy is thus:
     I give more and want for less
     I forgive more and feel grace
     I am more vulnerable, and I am stronger
     I judge less, and I experience more joy
     I act more upon the needs of others, and dwell less upon my pain
     I proclaim to know less, and feel wiser
Love is not like  the mystery of the universe,
Though it be as vast and glorious and terrifying,
Love is not a parlor trick to be known only by a few.
Love is not hard,
     though our lost and wasted wandering may make it seem so
Love is more like  Cosette, our rescued puppy
     of nine years in a cage
  Who we saved
     and now,
          She is saving us..

Worthy and stalwart sojourner,
Bright as the sun and carried forth by devotion to the journey
Disguised as a common school bus that has been modestly adorned.
An uncommon gilding that comes from the art of love,
which you bear with equanimity
The coach to my beloved passengers
You are their protector and steadfast friend
Continuing your created purpose,
delivering precious cargo to a world of discovery
Who needs but small adoration, and motor oil
Your dignity marching joyfully down a solitary highway
drawing crowds of admirers and the curious
yet, allowing  a shade tree mechanic to crawl beneath your shield and examine your private parts
Because you are dedicated to their wander lust
Indeed you stealthily stoke their zeal,
which can become muted in suburban safety and network news
Quietly, almost in secret, you stand patiently waiting
Beckoning with your bright colors that recount memories of past exploration
Teal and orange that recall the beautiful sunrise over the pacific,
Brick red and black, the unexpected festival with bright lights in the midnight sky
El toro and the sparkling castille showering down on squealing brown skinned boys and girls
Solitary beaches where paradise was yours, theirs alone
You call them to a quest renewed.
Calling my beloved parents.
Urging them out again.  Reassuring them that the risk is far outweighed by the memories
And when they are but a fraction on their way,
your gentle words, disguised in the hum of the engine, whisper
"away, away, let us see what we shall see"
Stirring their youth and vigor, laying to rest their doubts.
Believing it is their own voice, they grow confident.
With eyes cast ahead in anticipation of another adventure.

I always wanted to
  Marry, merry Mary.
  But knew not how to propose.

And so I went to fetch her flowers
  Rows of roses rose
  before me, presenting many choices but producing a tear.

My sorrow was broken by a
  Sheer, cheer, chear,
  my friends wishing my love to ignite

Be not discouraged, your love is a
  lite, light. Alighted
  by the tender flame your heart abates.

And Mary loves you, despite her long
  way and weighty wait
  She knows you're worth it and why

So put on your best suit and
  tie that Thai  tie  
  of azure that matches your eyes

That's Mary's favorite, said
  I, aye, eye
  And she's sure to say yes, yes, yes

  to such a fool in love

Amidst a day cloaked in grey and cold
Like it was dressed in the angry, divisive garments of the world.
I saw a thing of beauty.
Shed tears in my heart and rejoiced in the quiet.
It unfolded before me holding hands with my friend.
The beauty and power that lie deep in the depths of us.
That come forth when we see truth.
With threatening ideas and analog notions;
     honor, faith, sacrifice, commitment.

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder?
So if I don't see it, it must not be beautiful.
If I don't believe it, it must not be true?
I saw a thing of beauty,
     whether you did or not
          whether you can or not
                Make a mockery if you wish
The fear of grace,
     the weariness of believing,          
          the soul worn out from abuse,
                or neglect or excess
To see a beautiful thing and turn it into fools gold
  When pure gold is too bright for eyes that have grown accustomed to the darkness.

I saw a thing of beauty,
I don't want to own it,
I just want to share it.
We will see this beauty and  be afraid together.