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We Speak. . .
We Speak. . . We say goodbye with body language. See. . . we know when our arms are circling each other they will not release until our hearts press our knowledge one to the other. And we look with watery eyes that no longer see…
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I Don’t Know How To Be Deaf. . .
I had been struggling with the newer hearing aids for over two years. And the audiologists kept saying they are the state of the art but my ears were itching and my brain hurt. It was irritated, my brain was. With the new hearing test, the audiologist said you work very hard at hearing,…
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Time Is Now. . .
Events of this past week have shaken us all. Time is now that changes will be evident. Time is now that much will be demanded. And the young whose memories now of the violence that has taken their friends and innocence will demand restitution and behavior that comes with adulthood. The children shall lead us. …
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Ripped, severed, broken. . . again . . . .
(I am running out of words and energy at this time nearing the terminus of my life. I find that what I have written in the past of these earth shaking events are words that still wring my heart to shreds. And yours, too. I cannot find other words to tell their story. Our language…
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The Wait Is Too Long. . .
From my eyes. . . . Father, I said, go greet your son. And the father did and their arms wrapped themselves about each other. And the world was then all right. From my eyes, from my eyes. . . And from my heart, I hear . . . Why did they wait so long?…
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One World At A Time . . .is enough?
Our focus is a small world. . . When I read this poem I take on another perspective. It is a small world that we focus on here. Never aware that there is another world to the left and one to the right and beneath . Vast. . . I see me holding tight to…
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In The Quiet Of This Night. . . . . .
In The Quiet Of This Night. . . In the quiet of this night, come to me and we will hold hands and talk, and I will show you from how high up you jumped. The night will love you and envelop you and you will find that in the cold moon there is a…
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Worn Like A Second Skin. . . . .
The Teacher says do not worry about what others think. They just think differently. And this difference lends a diversity to life that will peal our heart and make us wish to be among humans living time and again. We will wish to work within the limitations, knowing that the things we have learned are…
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Across The Mind’s Eye. . . .
Across The Mind’s Eye. . . . Laying like whipped icing on the wedding cake, the drifts of snow across the mind’s eye left a clear path to the heart’s memory of the other winters when love closed the doors of the world and cherished me. What were the winters like when the snow stood…
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Where Can We Go?. . . .
When I was in public grammar school and we were let out for weekly religious class to go to our places of worship, I sat on my hands in the basement of the old church and sweated. I was not answering the priest’s question and knew I would be punished but what he was…