@Jess,
"The greatest one I bear now,
making me die a little each day,
is that I let you go, not knowing,
leaving was a decision you'd regret."
You, with your raw, poignant words,
captured the agony of unspoken goodbyes,
painting the ache of regret like a timeless portrait.
In your verse, I hear the soul's deepest cry,
yet in your strength, there’s also light.

@Anais Vionet,
"I am the wind, the desert breeze,
the ocean spray and rustling leaves."
You, like the wind, slip through every thought,
a breath of freedom captured in verse,
unstoppable, untamed. Your lines dance
like whispers of the sea,
speaking of transformation, beauty, and loss.

@Shane Michael Stoops,
"46 years,
What do you get,
Your way past old,
Your pants don’t seem to fit"
You embrace the passage of time,
showing us the strength in weariness,
the humor in change. Your words,
like a hearty laugh, echo through life's stages,
reminding us that every line of life is worth reading.

@CJ Sutherland,
"eye now know
the how, when, where and the-why,
my Eyes compose this elegy
memories of past and present... blending into memories of future happenstance."
Your poetry is a mosaic of time,
where past, present, and future coexist,
and each word is a step toward discovery.
Your mind is both a mirror and a window,
reflecting and shaping the world.

@Shane Michael Stoops (again),
"We danced in the rain,
Laughing away so much pain."
Your words hold an unspoken promise,
the joy of dancing in the face of sorrow.
In your poems, there is an invitation to release,
to shed our fears and allow laughter to heal.
You teach us that pain and joy can coexist.

@Jess (again),
"I hardly understand the ticking of the clock,
trying hard to go through each day."
The ticking of your verse carries the weight
of endless hours and endless thoughts.
In your words, I hear the struggle of time
and the ache of waiting for solace.
But there's grace in your journey—
and your courage leaves a lasting mark.

@Anais Vionet (again),
"What is chosen is believed,
though the choices are presented—
I choose among the sacrificial burnt offerings."
You have a way of breaking down complexity
with a single line, weaving the eternal truth
into a delicate, yet unapologetically bold choice.
Your words cut to the heart,
unraveling mysteries with elegance and resolve.

To live, Embrace Peace
Walk with Ease.
To everyone,
Speak in a soft tone.
To people, show love,
One day you'll need love.

©IB-Poetry
11/2/2018

While bearing the weather of a storm, you don't consider the aftermath; you don't consider the damage that's being done. In that moment, all you can do is brace yourself. You hide, tuck your head between your knees, close your eyes and try to convince yourself it isn't happening. The ground shakes, the wind whistles through the cracks of the doors and it feels like the world may fall from beneath you, but you bear it. And then, after what feels like a piece of forever, the wind settles, the rain stops and you can breath easy. You survived. For a while, you think it's over. The calm is a silent whisper convincing you that you'll be okay. You think all is passed. Until you look up, step outside your home and see the damage that's been done. The gardens that have been destroyed by fallen trees, the broken windows of the house down the street, the flood of water from the rain that swallows everything in its way. That's when you realize; the worst part has only just begun.

Losing you was the storm. It was slow at first, then it progressed as time went by and became aggressive...angry. It was loud, it came with too many words that should have remained unsaid to save ourselves from the damage. But you see, you didn't consider the aftermath of breaking me. You didn't care enough to spare me the pain of forgetting every promise you ever made me; telling me things that to this day create thunder in the back of my mind on the sunniest of days. I braced myself, convinced myself we could survive this. I convinced myself that your anger was a cloud that needed to release its rain. And rain it did. But it's been days since it stopped raining and I'm still coughing up water from the flood you left behind.
Just when I thought we were in this together, you couldn't handle the changing weather and I'm here in a pile of broken branches with bruised feet and ****** knees wondering how I could have avoided this. What happens when the one thing I tried to protect is destroyed? What happens when it's my heart?

How do you fix the aftermath of a storm when its somewhere your hands can't reach?