I walked miles around
writer's block only to find myself surrounded by the swooners who waxed poetic lost to the truth that there were already 3 words to say I love you.
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One day
I started practicing medicine As if I were writing a poem. Deliberately empty I was listening to the soft, small voice asking to find a way home in this vast, hard world. Listening to the story, revealing. as if eery syllable was the last breath of God I forgot I was human and brought forth what could and couldn't be me. For what really are symptoms and poems but reasons to become silent and speak what can't be said with words. I watched her for nights,
glowing. The overhead lights pretending to be her moon. Sometimes I lost her in the dark as I went chasing after her fingers dancing themselves to the beat of some other mystery. She told me It didn't turn out right, the colors and the shades. The channel broken somewhere along the way as she sipped her evening tea. Hardly able to read my own handwriting, I sat dumbfounded by what had manifested on the page. I had never seen something so beautiful, yet so broken, so miraculous Yet so human Where in this hauntingly disastrous world had she gone to bring back the sky that had been painted between the trees by a creator weeping in joy knowing that one day a daughter would wake and bring to life what could never be born. Love starts hard
then it gets harder. at some point it becomes impossible and in the moment you sever your ties with love, to be free of what is no longer attainable, you will be filled up like an overflowing pot of tea steaming steeping seething at the thought that the only way you can be poured back into the world to be sipped, to be saved to be savored, is to find the cups that once were pots and share what came From Me. In stillness I pondered from what storm had you emerged? Your crystalline face a reminder of what can be made when struggle falls in love with hope, when pain loses itself in possibility, when brokenness wraps its arms around itself. Staring through my nakedness you saw what could never be clothed, what I had never been willing to undress. Your love was relentless scooping up the buried pieces broken in my fight to defy essential wholeness and the heart it was made to win. In my world
I wake up into dreams And fall asleep into reality I love what I can see And am loved by what I can’t In my world I am undone by the Irrefutable And am made whole by the Indescribable I am what is inconceivable Yet conceive what is Unbelievable In my world I speak by becoming silent And listen by talking to the heart I pray by forgetting I'm praying And remember we shall never be apart Buried in the leaves
Fallen I hid my true colors Still green and full of life I breathed in perpetual Spring While shriveled cynicism And morbid moribunds Covered me with their decaying ways Wonder I did What the evergreen must Think When the air becomes Thick With the changing of the guard Doubt surely Must bleed through his Bark And drip on receding Roots Eroding the faith Once unwavering In the love of his Creator Who promised the wind Would one day come And paint sky between the trees So light could Wake the fallen Buried in the leaves You know when you’ve read a poem
Not by its questionable rhyme Nor its disdain for punctuation And complete disregard for time Not by its love for the ordinary Nor its refusal to stay on the page Not by its willingness to hold you While you break free from Maya’s cage Not by its rare discernment Nor its way for making you think Not by its need to meet you While your soul steps out to drink You know when you've read a poem When you have no wish to speak For the words that came upon you Said what your heart told you last week The day I fell in love with
You You told me we could just Be friends The next morning I woke up For you To tell you that was all I Needed The night I lost my heart in You You told me yours worked just as well The next morning I woke up With you To tell you that I was still Alive The day I left my life for You You told me you were 3 Steps ahead The next morning I woke up To you To tell you that we hadn't Made it out of bed The night I stared into your Divine creation You told me it was made From colored pencils The next morning I woke up In you To tell you that my world Was just rainbows I walked this life, without Knowing your smile For too many breathes, and Too manymiles I waited for you, not Knowing you'd be My life, my heart, my love's Destiny You didn't deserve to be listened to
But I did anyway You didn't deserve to take my time But I gave it to you anyway You didn't deserve to have my patience But you received it anyway We crawl out of dark places To meet the rising sun To feel that, indeed We do not need to crawl Back Awash in a world of humility Tolerance Generosity Compassion Some find the light And shower with God's Grace While others crawl back Into that deep dark place An internal hell That acts as a sanctuary From the truth That love will always Win |
PoetryBecause all that science just gets old after a while. Archives
October 2019
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