#healings
I feel
I feel it again,
this urge to sing.
Like something in me is waking up,
something I thought I lost.
I used to sing all the time.
It wasn’t just a habit, it was a dream.
I really believed I could become a musician.
But somewhere along the way, I changed.
Or maybe… I just stopped listening to that part of me.
Now I’m wondering,
can I still sing?
Or did I leave that version of myself behind?
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 4:58 PM UTC
To the Boy I Loved
It has been three years, maybe more, since I last saw your face.
Yet I still miss the feeling of noticing you notice me.
The way you smiled at my smallest gestures, like they mattered.
Some nights, before I sleep, I trace your face on my pillow.
Not because I still expect you to be there, but because I remember how we never said much to each other. We just sat for each other every Sunday in church, letting silence do the talking.
I remember how you would save holy communion for me when I was late.
How you would look around, quietly asking people if they had seen me whenever I wasn’t in your sight.
It’s strange how that phase of our lives has ended.
What scares me most is the thought that our paths may never cross again.
Still, I’m grateful.
You let me taste love, just enough to know how it feels.
And since you left, I haven’t moved past that phase. I haven’t found love again.
But this year, something in me has changed.
I’ve started going out. Talking to other people. Trying.
And sometimes I wonder where you are, what you’re doing, or if you ever think of me too.
Sometimes I imagine that one day, just one day, you’ll call.
That you’ll tell me you missed me.
That you’ll say you’re sorry for leaving me stranded in silence.
But even if that day never comes, I need you to know this:
You were one of the best things that ever happened to me.
I wish you well.
And I’m writing this not because I still want you,
but because I’m finally ready to let you go.
Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 10:11 AM UTC
(a poem in Haiku and Senryu)
Draw a stick figure
future - sadly diminished
and chaos ransomed.
Paint the landscape
with the sweltering glare
of global warming.
Add micro-plastic
and forever chemical
flavorings to taste.
Come share this
with me - let kisses heal and
soft whispers inflame.
Some locks need two keys
to open, some heavens can
be reached by mortals.
.
.
A song for this:
All Gone Away by The Style Council
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 11:35 AM UTC
It’s a quiet cool twilight
and through the windows I see
elm and pear standing in elegant silhouette
arms and delicate fingers
calmly reach for the sky.
They know not the years’ end is nigh
they remember spring summer and fall
and now they rest in winter’s arms
theirs the wisdom of passing
season unto season
their roots reach down and deepen.
We two are quiet at twilight
yet reaching for the heavens,
but we do know the years we’ve stayed,
more than eighteen thousand days
in the embrace of our love
season unto season
our roots deepen
and reach into our hearts
finding reason upon reason
to learn and grow and mature
millions of minutes step by step to endure.
And breath by breath
she has said yes upon yes
to this man unworthy of the grace
I have found in her voice and her embrace.
In moments of anger and near despair
we crafted a sculpture of care.
We’ve walked through darkness into light
knelt before each other sad and contrite
for our failures and night upon night
we have laid side by side
and together we’ve stayed
conquered our pride
found the divine in each other and beyond
turned tears and fears into a durable bond.
Still her smile melts me
floats me and bolts me
and her lips still thrill and pull me into her fiery orbit.
Even after this long, this woman I cannot resist
and yes, she persists
in her acceptance of this old guy
who can still bring a sparkle to her eye
a chuckle to her voice and a smile to her face.
Here we are at this twilight time
golden and holdin together
and – still – yes, still we rhyme.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 9:23 PM UTC