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Lord, I don't know where to begin. Life has thrown me a crazy curveball right now and I'm feeling a little anxious about it. I know that this is supposed to be a time of joy, celebration and thanksgiving, but I haven't been feeling it quite so much. I know there are lots of things to be joyful and thankful for: friends, family, my faith, food, water, clothing, shelter, a good job, being alive, being able to see a sunrise or sunset and the list goes on. Thank you for these Lord, and please help me always be mindful of the many blessings you have given me in my life!

Lord, you are the Prince of Peace. Right now, I could use some peace of mind, body and spirit in this crazy world.
You are the King of the Universe and all creation; help me rest in the knowledge that everything is under your command. You are in control.
You are the Divine Physician, healer of body and mind. Please Lord, heal what ails me physically and cast out any fear or doubt with your perfect love.

In the meantime, help me find my strength and comfort in You. Help me carry this cross of mine and, by it, help me to become more holy, more empathetic to those who are also in need of Your Comfort. Walk with me Lord on this road I am on and, if necessary, carry me.

Sometimes it's hard to see you, and sometimes it seems you are far away. Give me the grace to see with eyes of faith and seek you and find you all around me in big and small ways. But you say: "I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future. You will call on me and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me, and you will find me when you seek me with all your heart". (Jeremiah 29: 11-13)

Help me see you in someone who smiles at me as they pass by, the joy that comes in a walk outside on a nice fall day, the incredible beauty of a sunrise or sunset, on a good day with little pain, or having the strength and endurance for a long day and still feeling good afterwards.

Lord, I trust you. Help me trust you in this too and lean on the support and encouragement of my friends, family, spouse, church, and most importantly, You my Lord God. Please help me make a speedy and full recovery, so I can get back to the great work that you have so blessed and gifted me to be able to do. Help me continue to find joy in the job and strength for the journey. Bless my work Lord, that it may be a blessing for others and a blessing for you that others might change lives and hearts for the better and bring people closer to you!

AMEN
The sun began to fall from the sky
The moon turned a blind eye
The ground crumbled beneath my feet
The trees died out when I touched their branches..
The people sought to erase my chances, no one on Saturday would like to greet me.
The animals whimpered and growled when we’d meet
The clouds didn't make shapes for me anymore, just grey, depressing things floating atop me every day.
My house fell apart by one knock on the door. I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be too expensive.
The building fell to dust when I walked up the stairs, and soon I was stuck in a cycle of despair.
The electric wires burned out when I tried to watch the news, only faint radio sounds cured my curiosity.
The knife in my hand turned dull in a pinch,
So soft my skin couldn't be pierced.
The car exploded into flames when I walked by the street
“Poor guy” I thought.
Every stone hard enough to **** me transformed into chalk.

Until, one day, on Fairway Road,
an old lady, in an antique dusty purple coat stopped at my feet
I laid there starving, refusing to eat.
She introduced herself as Marilyn Scott,
Who loved her earl grey and the petunias she cared for so dearly.
Mrs. Scott went on about how there was a war in Europe,
One that threatened the lives of the people in my state.
Then, again, changed the subject to her profitable farm
down the ways, in the fields.
"The freshest milk in Montana!" She'd say.
Meanwhile I remained on the cold cement, wishing for this pain to end.
But she kept on chatting, and chatting.
"My husband just passed about a month ago.." She said
"My dear son Rob just graduated from his studies" She said.
"Bread prices are down, this week." She said!
and she said, and she said, and she wouldn't stop saying.
Meanwhile my mind was rotting, decaying.
Then she finally stopped, and gave a large sigh
And looked me dead in the eye.
"Mr. Arthur" she said, point blank.
"Mr. Arthur, how have you been?"
I froze and stopped breathing.
All feelings of hunger dissipated.
The cold air, like her, was comforting to me.
I realized, she acknowledged my existence, like no one had before.
"Mrs. Scott," I nodded my head,
"I'm doing fine."
With all my energy,
I leapt up, and brushed down my chalky knees, like a gentleman would.
And finally, taking my chance, I asked her: "Say, where could I purchase the freshest milk in all of Montana?"

And she said.
This all happened in great detail within my dream. Old Marilyn Scott..
i’m convinced we let go
twice

once
in order to
leave ourselves broken
and alone
on a cold floor

till we flatline

then once more
to realize
we always were

broken
and alone

we
always
were

ironic
ain’t it?

it’s special
that kind of silence
somehow comforting
only after the eeriness
of no one caring
truly
sets in

and no one is supposed to

i was surprised to learn this

especially as a child

i learn it every day still

especially as a man

and you’re lucky
if momma does

some mommas don’t
some mommas can’t

yes
as a man
i must learn
to bloom

not only bloom
but to hide
the uglier colors
and only display
the primaries
the strong ones
the vividness of manliness

never my grays
and blacks
where i tend to color
most of my mind

i sometimes hate it
and sometimes i like it like that
there’s no lines
or borders i can’t cross
i’m not expected to be
good
at it

i’m asked to
handle things
and to listen
intently
while i can barely
handle the echoes
to begin with

nobody asks about those
nobody needs to
nobody should
not even momma

why would i worry her?
she’s the only one
ever around
when lingering drumming sounds
rise

it’d be nice to be asked
but a lot of things would be nice

and this silence is nice
sometimes

most of the time it ain’t
but i lay
alone
drama free
and no amount of company
can take that peace from me
or piece from me

givers give
and
takers take

beware the silence
that roams that
strong silhouette of his

for he definitely
opens up fully
to his shadows

and his shadows
really listen

he doesn’t have
to let go of them

they never leave
in fact
they’re his followers

and after a chat
and a quiet cry
he goes back

to momma
and no one else

as it should be

as it is
and
as it will be.

-melancholicreator
love ya, momma
Zywa Jan 27
A man opens up

in the arms of a woman --


He softens and talks.
Novel "Een Fries huilt niet" ("A Frisian does not cry", 1980, Gerrit Krol), chapter 7.1

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in the 80s and 90s"
Abi Winder Jan 21
wine glasses nestled between
almost frozen fingers,
sipped by months sore from smile.

laughter warms
and makes the stomachs of
friends long familiar ache.

time can not steal the comfort
found in the stitches of
each others sweet company.
Zywa Jan 21
Quiet as a child

in his mother's arms, quite so --


even is my soul.
Psalm 131:2

Collection "The sweet curve"
Azarel Jan 8
Hush, little rose, the night has been long,
Petals bruised and battered, yet still, you grow strong.
The care you seek will one day arrive,
But for now, your stem stands poised, alive.

Hush, little rose, though your storm feels unending,
Allow me to offer you solace and shelter, unbending.
Your thorns don’t scare me; I’ve bled before,
For scars tell a story that resilience bore.
So let me hold you, even if just tonight,
For in your tempest, kindred spirits unite.

Hush, little rose, forsaken and astray,
By gods who turned their backs and looked away.
Together, we can carve a new way,
No longer lost, we’ve found our light,
A quaint ember burning through the endless night.

Lean on me, and I’ll never let go,
For in your pain, a part of me continues to grow.

Hush, little rose, there’s no need to stand so tall,
Release yourself from the scars that shackle all.
Remove the mask you wear, let your weary soul rest,
If only for tonight, let me bear the weight in your chest.
Crumble in my arms; I’ll keep you whole,
You can break apart knowing I’ll guard your soul.

Hush, little rose, let the darkness seep,
I’ll hold you close when the shadows creep.
For you are not your storms, nor your fears—
You are the quiet strength behind your tears.

Let love be gentle, let it unfold,
Not the fire that consumes, but the warmth that holds.
There’s no need to burn for love to be true,
Let it be a love that softly cradles you.

Hush, little rose, the night has been long,
But in our shared silence, we’ve found a song.
No longer alone, no longer astray,
Together, we’ve forged the dawn of a new day.
This was a poem written for someone special. Someone who has had struggles understanding what love could be. Along with going through an incredibly difficult healing journey. To really show support towards them.
Asher Jan 7
Beating me to tears,  
then you hold me, comforting
a cruel, warm circle.
Lizzie Bevis Jan 3
Strong as steel, I stand alone,
I built my tower, I claimed my throne.
I am independent, fierce and free,
Complete within my own soul's sea.

Yet sweetness lies in a gentle space,
Nestled in someone's warm embrace.
Who wipes the tears I thought I could hide,
And listens to the storms inside.

This is not from need, but choice divine,
As our two paths chose to intertwine.
In strength we meet and in peace we stay,
Sharing our burdens throughout our days.

Although I am whole when on my own,
I find comfort when I'm not alone.
In having one who chooses to be
Both shelter and wonderful company.

©️Lizzie Bevis
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