I've forgotten how to gasp
For the beauty I saw
It seemed so long ago
When I saw beauty like yours
Your dimpled smile
Plays across my mind
Like a song overplayed
On the mainstream radio
I muffle my screams of joy into my pillow
Because my god, oh my
A beauty like yours
Lingered in my mind for hours

I am 'one of the guys' in a house of tacky wallpaper and 70's carpet
I am a reader of the piles of 80's national geographic covering my floors
I look out my window and have a clear view of a disintegrating trampoline and a rotting deck
I constantly hear calls of "IS THE LAUNDRY DONE?!" followed by, "I'm just too sick, Perri"
I am from a house constantly smelling of smoke, if you follow the scent you'll find a sick yet content man I call dad
I am the over-thinker, over analyzer of the group of 5 I refer to as my best friends
I am the wishful thinker who dreams of one day finding someone who respects and cares for me
I am from a town where a ****** named Ray Ray walks the streets, as elders stay in their 60's inspired homes
I am from a neighbourhood with churches on every corner, churches very few attend
I am from a family where the old speak in British accents and lovers of Yorkshire pudding drench it with gravy
I am the mother of an aging, energetic feline who rules the house
I am the author of a journal I keep all my thoughts in

One – I took a test
Two – I passed the test
Three – I went to class
Four – I studied for tests
Five – I practiced and practiced
Six – I joined in
Seven – I reviewed
Eight – I cried
Nine – I broke down
Ten – I accepted

There never seems
To be enough
Seconds in a minute
Or
Minutes in an hour
Or
Hours in a day
When it comes to this journey called "life."
There always seems to be
Somewhere to go
Or
Someone to see.
If it's not here, then it's there.
If it's not her, then it's them.
I frantically rush from one hour
To the next
CrammingCrushing
Everylittlething
Until there is nothing left but
Me and a hundred of thoughts,
A myriad of worries,
And a pyramid of plans.

But it's then that I take a breathe.
I take a breath
& remember You-
The Great Beginning
And the End.
For even but a moment
It is just the Father and I-
A father and his daughter.
I rest at the feet of Jesus
Like Mary once did.
There is no agenda
No rush
No need to be anywhere but here.
I am humbled by His presence for
He radiates
Love,
Holiness,
Self-lessness,
Patience-
All that I am not.

I tell Him of my day
And the fears that have taken root:
The fear of failing,
The fear of disappointment,
The fear of not being good enough.
"It's too much!"
I cry out.
"I can't do it!
There's too many things and not enough me."
But my Father,
He tells me to list.
He tells me of how He has a plan-
A plan of joy
Not worry;
A plan of peace,
Not distress;
A plan of victory,
Not defeat.
"Child, yes, you are small,
But I am big-
Bigger than your plans,
Bigger than your hopes,
Bigger than your fears.
So take comfort in Me
When life is not at rest.
Find solace during the story
While knowing that I calm the seas."

(& no, it was not like Martin Luther King, Jr.).
I had a dream that you had died
And I was still here.
I didn't even get to say goodbye.
So instead you said hello to a place I could never go.
You would think that I would have felt something-
Known that you had just let go.
Perhaps a tugging in my chest would have signaled
The pulling of strings-
The undoing of us.

But no,
I felt nothing
(just like you do now).

I didn't even have time to process or mourn properly
(if there is even such a thing)
Because the next frame was your funeral.
I sat in a pew in the back
And I couldn't remember if I was wearing the black dress you'd liked.
People were telling stories
Of who you were and what you did,
But I couldn't handle it.
I didn't want to hear about was and when and were.
I wanted to hear you.

I am not yours
Nor can I ever be.
I am bound to this world
This earth
This terrain
While you-  
You are walking across the universe
On steps that I will never graze upon.

I envy the faces you pass-
People who don't even know your name
Yet are privileged to be in your presence
While I am here, clinging to the mere indentation of you on my bed.

I don't understand the logic behind this.
I know you.
I have seen you wake up in the early morning,
A sketch of hazy eyes and soft edges.
I have seen you thrash in the middle of the night,
Delirious and fevered from the demons in your head.
I've held your calloused hands
And mapped out your scars
To the constellations of the dark dark sky.
I knew all of that
And yet
I still could not be yours.

It’s not with your lustrous hair
That makes me feel
It’s not with your luscious words
That make me thrill
I really can’t find it as of now
But I know where and how

For the days that passed
I can remember some memoirs that’ll last
Framing each special day
With you I’ll always gay

Now that the time has come for me
Though how hard it can be
I will really make it plain sure
That my love for you is clean and pure
_
March 2012