Blink

I close my eyes,

blink,

and suddenly 

everything is 

different.

Life moves

so quickly,

quicker than 

I'd like it to.

And I hold on 

with a fierce grip,

trying with all my 

might to keep

this moment.

Just one moment.

But it is slipping

like sand

through my fingers.

Gratitude, V

Here's Sunday:

Gratitude, V
Today I am so thankful:

For wonderful friends,
even when hard goodbyes
threaten

For family and laughter,
and a nine-year-old
and three-year-old
who found special places
in my heart

For change,
even when I resist it

And for avocados.

Memories

Sorry for the delay. Here's Saturday's post, a poem from my chapbook Exposed:

Memories

I closed my eyes,

darkness.

The world comes to a halt

as my dreams come alive;

my subconscious taking over.

Images flash before me,

scenes unfolding slowly,

of you and me

and me and them

and them and you.

A give and take of trust and relationship,

pulling and tugging like a child’s picnic game.

It’s all about a connection,

the happily ever after

in a messed up world.

Isn’t that what I’m supposed to dream about?

Darkness returns,

followed by a whirlwind

of pictures,

soundbites of voices;

some cause tears,

others happiness.

Vindictive memories dance before my eyelids,

attempting to create anxiety when I wake.

The sun glows behind closed shades,

awake,

eyes still closed.

Just breathe.

Field of Flowers

One thousand yellow daisies,
not one thousand and one,
not nine hundred and ninety nine;
one thousand.

I watch, elated,
as realization dawns on a
fictional character's face,
amidst a field of yellow daisies
growing indoors.

And I realize, just as she does,
that maybe that is what I want,
what I'm waiting for:

my field of one thousand daisies,
not one thousand and one,
not nine hundred and ninety nine.

Although, if you've got one thousand
flowers to work with,
do they all have to be the same?

Let Go and Let God

I've stepped back in time, to a box of memories that date back for years. And I have moved on, forward, past tribulations and pain, happy times and sad. But this box remains the same, holding onto memories like flesh holds onto scars, the past and all of the details that came with it etched onto skin forever... hidden in this box forever. And I remember. I have moved forward, accepted so many things, including myself. I have tried to forget, to leave the past behind. It's then that I realize the importance of remembering, but learning to let go. Because who I was and what I went through made me the person I am. And who I am can accomplish anything, I just had to learn to let go.

Quite the Pair

Two yellow butterflies
float on the breeze,
always two.

I see them often,
seemingly the same two
as before, and yet obviously
different.

But there are always two,
butter yellow, fluttering and
flitting about, for barely a second
as I pass in a hurry,
as always.

I'm beginning to wonder if
yellow butterflies ever travel
alone.

Gratitude, IV

Tonight, as rain beats the
roof with sheer force, I am thankful
for:

Beautiful words from my peers,
bravely shared from a carpet square
at a coffee shop

Car rides and laughter with friends,
even if it reminds me that time
must move on, an so will these friends

The promise of summer that
waits patiently on the horizon

Quick conversations with good friends,
where I don't even gave to say much
to be understood

And the struggles, which remind me
that God has a purpose for my life,
and all that I've been through,
all the places I have yet to go,
serve a higher plan.