In silence

I sit in silence

let my eyes wander in reverence

across the sky looking for guidance

blue and cloud creating its own magnificence

My eyes wander again in silence

across the meadow of grass and violets

breeze on my face and nature’s incense

the world so immense

I sit in silence

in a sweet benevolence

I show my deference

smiling more than once

In silence.

 

I am Man

I am not a wise man

though I lean to the pretend.

I am not a strong man

though my face can scare at times.

I am not a rich man

but I am loved by those that care.

I am not a thin man

and I do not obsess on self.

I am not a violent man

in fact I prefer to make you laugh.

I am just a man

That sees himself

in a reality based on fact

I am a man

Like me or not

I will remain me, without an act.

A Tiny Hand

Your tiny hand

held in mine

so small, I still remember…

Walk with me

hand in hand

as I get grey and meager…

My tiny hand

aged and frail

so small, you may remember

No matter how grey

or stooped with age

there is something always familiar…

Your hand hold true

is never grown

It’s just what I remember…

A tiny hand

held tight to mine.

A love that lives forever.

 

 

Waking.

And all I know is I must be sure,

In this life there’s the perfect cure,

The kingdom comes as I fall down,

I’m the clown.

And all I know is I’m insecure,

I see the truth as the biggest lure,

The kingdom comes as I close my eye,

It’s my disguise.

And I look for something so obscure,

I wonder if I am immature,

The kingdom comes as I lose sight,

Am I right?

And I stand so tall, self-assured,

No more travelling a dark detour,

The kingdom comes as I see,

No I in we.

and then light…

When you live as I have lived, you become a bit disillusioned with the world around you. You watch the news, listen to the radio, surf the Net for whatever is trending at that moment. What I saw was pain, hurt and anguish all around me. From the gossip, to the wars that plagued humankind.

I have lived a life. Sometimes good, mostly bad. Experience teaches that the darkness is caused by the clouds overhead, thick and grey. Looking up you would never think that there was a sun or even light. It was a cloud made by indifference and acceptance of what is.

I once stood apart from that, but slowly drowned. I have loved and lost, fought and been beaten down. I have climbed the mountain only to find it barren. I seemed to die a little inside, slowly, by endless misfortune.

And then…

There was a break in the clouds. A ray of light shining down to this cold form. I felt the heat, squinted at the light, felt the breath of change on my heavy shoulder. She was woman, hope and love. She was a smile that had no cost. She was eyes that saw me and ears that heard me. She was logic and laughter. She made my clouds part and the sky was so blue. I lost my breath, in awe of the wonder I had missed for years. The wonder of someone…who cared.

This is happy.

 

and this is but a small part of me…

I was never one for long goodbyes. I think I was more a “pull the band-aid off” kinda guy. It was in my nature to quit when things went bad and forget. I was good at erasing things from my head, squashing feelings of love and fondness. It was how I dealt with the hard moments, the tears and the sadness in life. Better to forget than to actually deal with emotion.

This led to a slow fall into a confused and pained existence, where my own memory became stunted and broken. You see play with your own memories long enough and you actually start believing the lies you have told yourself and losing the reality of oneself. I forgot so much pain, but also lost the core person I was. In essence I chose to forget me.

Yes, it seems a bit impossible, but I began this talent at a very early age. I guess you could say it is spawned from my own mental illness. Leave the bad things somewhere else and pretend to be someone else. When you begin young, you have so many years to hone. As circumstances went, I was given lots of opportunity to force forget. I never said my life was a good one, but in truth, most of the bad I just let go…poof!

The only draw back to this wondrous talent of mine is that the memories do not actually go. They more hide, fester and gain power. They wait for something to set them free. They know that eventually a personality like mine will have the ultimate emotional test and with it…crack. I do not blame the forgotten for wanting to be free. I think any memory wants to be remembered, put them together and you have a mob wanting to be heard. This is how I define my breakdown, a mob wanting to be heard.

The trigger was the end of a marriage, or rather the end of my family. I am not here to discuss it, I merely  mention it in passing. This emotionally charged event allowed the mob to escape. The rush of memory was painful. I do not mean mentally, I mean really physically painful. It hit me right in the chest, like a thousand pounds of pressure crushing me. I screamed in pain, wanting it to just go. I wanted to die and I tried so hard to.

Glimmers saved me.The faces of my children, their laughs, their voices and their love. For the briefest of moments I heard and saw them in the mob. It pushed me back, out of the frozen lake I had walked into. Made me crawl in agony back to the living and made me seek help to quiet all the voices. I will always be grateful  to my children, they will never know, but they saved their dad’s life.

When the voices quieted, I also realized that I did not know who I was. I had lived so long forgetting and pretending that the person I was….wasn’t. I was just a lost boy, without dust to fly, without a happy thought. I was nothing, truly just shell. I breathed, I lived and I breathed some more. I was only happy when I was with my kids. This time fed my heart, but when they were gone, I starved.

This was not a good existence, but it was all I had. I never said it was a good life, but sometimes there were glimmers. Give me a bit, and I will ramble some more…

The making of…

It was, but a whisper in his ear. A solemn vow put forward before the world swam with life. In this age, man was but a distant pain in an otherwise unspoiled void.

He listened and moved with movements that were timed as a dance. He let his hands weave the earth into being. As he turned, he kicked his heels, and the mountains grew tall and strong. He dipped at the waist and bowed the forests to life.

When he snapped his fingers to the music of the wind, the beasts of the earth sang back. He wiped a tear and it fell to ground, leaving oceans with a hint of salt.

He danced across the world and the world danced back. Time followed in step with his feet, and as he neared the last beat. He tripped and that made man.