A tribute

Everything is different now

I'm trying not to let myself feel

Fighting the fibers of fear

Still, it's forcing its way...

From toes to fingertips to shoulders to temples

It ripples through tendrils and shouts with my steps

Fear of unknown keeps a girl up at night

Fear of what's known is a much deeper fright

Darling children, I remember you laughing 

And I will never forget. 

Life will move in patterns and waves 

Circle around us in shapes and songs

In the curve of the trees

in the fiery sunsets 

On the sandy shores, breezes swirling 

Shifting tides

The world will move on

And with turning of seasons I promise I will never forget. 

Normal is nonexistent,

Pain takes the place of sane, inexplicably senseless, never the same.

Struggling for words. I will never forget.

I have a hope.

 A pinhole of light in a day filled with night

It's hard to remember when the world is in shadows

Still, it's forcing its way...

From toes to fingertips to shoulders to temples

It ripples through tendrils and shouts with my steps

A hope that is bright

Helps a girl sleep at night. 

Dedicated to all of those who lost loved ones in the Sandy Hook shooting.

And those of us who are still struggling with it all.
Ps. 147:3

Just some stream of consciousness...

Stained Glass Eyes

There exists a thread that binds our lives

With precision it pierces inside and slides 

effortlessly through souls, then perfectly ties.

Invisible, Untouchable, Indestructible

A thread, soaring in a stream of love 

Arrayed in lines of blue and gray.

Today, I see with stained glass eyes a truth that can only be read in black and white.

Squinting to gain some sense of sight

A kaleidoscope kind of fight at night. 

Streams of light, so bright

Ignite the plight that can't seem right.

 Stacked in jewels that shimmer alone

But together, they shine in explosions of crystal color. 

Alone they sparkle

But are unstoppable when united

This truth slips through stacks of colored sand

Impossible to understand. 

Not planned. Pained

And it's painted in perfect brush strokes 

Spoken in hugs and smiles and sighs

A truth that cries out in a language we can't translate.

But we wait. 

Earth gives way to seed and grass and in time

 the past is a mist in the distance

A cloud of laughter, a glance, a chance once more

for the thread to soar, or at least for peace.