It started out huge
picking my tiny daughter up for school on the first
of many many too many days

She would hop on
sometimes begrudgingly
hopping off always joyfully

But as she has grown
that bus has begun to shrink
and become ever so small

That bus seemed plenty big enough
for her and her giant backpack
her crayons and papers

It seemed to be just right as she
continued to board with her novels
and friends

It seems too small now
Too small to hold her and all of her
dreams and ambitions

I no longer see her on that bus
but walking through some bucolic campus
sitting under shade trees sketching

Or stepping off of a busy curb
over puddles and around cars
on her way to a gallery or show

Yes, that bus has been shrinking
and I can't stop it
but I can marvel at how it has changed

I wont tell you how I feel. Inside
where the roses see no light.
I know it will make you sad.
I'll keep it to myself, hide it among the thorns,
twisting vines making me sick and tired.
Dry and baron soil unquenchable,
the gardener grieves for the seasons last harvest.
The tear buds are shaking from wooden stems
Drops of rose blood trying to quench the thirst.
A sacrificial death, my own cross yet to bare
Wild blood seeps until all the hurt is gone
Bled from each bloom,
soaking the roots, too late.
It is time to say goodbye
Each rose must be pruned
Hearts left rotting on the ground
Fertilizing a new day's harvest
They will never be the same
no rose as sweet as the one before
yet promise lingers with Spring's fresh hope
That A tiny bud can bring life from death.

The space between each breath and beat,
is vacant now, a hollowed nest.
Where once wings fluttered soft and meek,
dust now settles down to rest.

The raider knew not of my plight.
With twisted key, she opened wide
the place where butterflies take flight;
the cage in which my heart resides.

The butterflies they danced and flew.
Some filled the mouth with words unsaid.
But lips were sealed, so numbers grew;
the crowding forced them out instead.

The ripple of their wings fell still,
their sprightly quiver fled my chest.
She drew them out, with time and skill.
I spat out love; truth wrapped in jest.        
                          
When all was said, the flutter waned
From love to hate, the din grew weak.
Though her hold lessened, her face remained
in the space between each breath and beat.

For Thou alone my heart sings
O Lord of Lords, King of Kings;
how can I love Thee as I ought,
Thy love I have so long sought.

When I contemplate Thy goodness to me,
I am in awe and enveloped in humility
that Thou O God from infinity
saw fit to create one like me.

My heart overflows for love of Thee
like swelling waters of the blue-green sea,
like the roaring waves splashing ashore;
it is Thee O my God whom I adore.
Permit that I may love Thee evermore.

When my earthly life comes to an end,
my sinful wounded soul wilt Thou mend?
May I one day behold Thy radiant Face
and reap the joy of inestimable grace?

How I pray this will be so, O Lord,
as to Thee alone all Praise I accord;
to be in Thy company one of these days
hearing choirs resound in Praise
to Thy Holiness and Grace
in that heavenly Place
and behold, I gaze
upon Thy most
beautiful
Face.




© Carmela M. Patterson, All rights reserved.