Sunday, December 4, 2016

why can't i be some 
random boy 
you carve time for 
weekly 
why can't you shoot baskets 
with me 
and get in the bully's face 
on my behalf
if only i were some kid 
spilling out of a 
broken home 
needing some positive 
powerful 
male role model
influence 
to keep me off the streets 
an underdog. 
i know you especially 
love those..
but i am your 
own son. 
i guess i am strong enough 
to share.

-the longing  

Saturday, November 26, 2016

i was wrong.

i say i am soft
and open to correction
i say i am teachable
so here comes along
an opportunity
for me to be fully convicted.
confronted in
gentleness
and still,
how it stings.
still, how my pride wants to
bristle
and demand more than
just the humble truth
that needs no more explanation.
i am wrong.
i am wrong.
i am sorry.
please. 
let me fix it.


i guess 
some writing is meant to be 
written 
in order to pull it out 
of the darker parts of 
me 
to expose the mean and unkind parts of 
me 
so i can't hide behind them 
if the words are just staring me 
black and unblinking. 
it's not a part of the writing that 
i'm proud of, 
but hopefully after it's out 
it does a kneading number on me 
and makes the harsher parts of me 
smaller 
and the softer parts of me 
bigger.
so i will pull good and hard 
on the writing that makes me cringe 
and ill put it away in a drawer 
somewhere 
but at least it's outside my body 
and no one will be harmed
upon reading 
and i will still have  my 
softness
in tact. 

Sunday, November 20, 2016

gratitude and service 
are the two 
best 
paths to joy..

-anne lamott
that time 
i thought i could not 
go any closer to 
grief 
without dying

i went closer
and i did not 
die.
surely God 
had His hand 
in this

-Heavy, Mary Oliver

Saturday, November 19, 2016

first snow.

the first snow 
fell this morning. 
i woke up next to my husband's 
warm body 
quiet with sleep 
our youngest wedged 
between us-
stumbled down who knows when 
even before the day was 
ready to meet us. 
the window lit 
with fresh white snow flakes 
fat with shape and character 
falling softly 
at an angle 
waving to us on the way down.
my whole family somehow 
ended up on our bed 
every pair of eyes 
watching with wonder and 
growing excitement 
as winter had proudly arrived, 
yet humble in how little he shared..
we know there is much much 
more to come. 
the festive excitement welling up 
in my little heart 
surprised me 
but i welcomed it 
and allowed myself 
to enjoy this beauty and glory 
in the arrival 
of fierce beautiful Winter. 
it helped we had perfect accompaniments 
for days like this. 
eggnog, Christmas music playlists 
[we love Michael and Amy 
serenading us with their classics]
not to mention cozy blankets, 
chili hot chocolate 
and buttery popcorn. 
something about that 
first snow fall,
you can't help but invite it 
into your bones
to sing to your soul 
and rest in the warmth 
that is even more appreciated 
now that the cold is here. 

winter, you are more than welcome 
to stay a while..

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

lingering goodbye

"i don't know, 
but something about 
funerals, 
i think i have 
grown to love them," 
chelsea shared 
softly. 
and i think 
i agree with her. 
it's not love funerals 
in some sort of sick twisted
sadistic way either. 
it's a 
love that sees the wet dew 
sticking to everything 
kind of way, 
and seeing everyone's hearts 
sitting in their laps 
soft like moss 
growing greener by the second. 
it's a 
love how family and close ones 
ascend upon the same place 
at the same time 
and all the sudden you're 
seeing faces that you've 
almost forgotten 
and you are reminded 
that they. are. your. family. 
it's a 
love of 
paying homage, 
offering respect, honor, 
and a solemn remembrance 
of the one you've said goodbye to.
remembering 
is a good thing. 
memories are all that's left now 
and those become 
most treasured gifts. 
i like funerals 
because i don't see much 
clinging to hard and sharp edges 
but a dripping, 
soaking fabric of 
softness 
i see draped on 
everyone's shoulders. 
we buried my grandpa this week. 
and we cried and rejoiced through 
each of the portions 
and no one was in 
any hurry. 
we sat through a simple lunch 
of funeral food. 
ham on buns, 
with ample dollops of 
gold butter 
l i n g e r i n g  
allowing our stories 
to float amongst us
and again, 
the sweet smell of 
memory 
never smelled so fragrant 
so good. 
it came time 
to lower him 
down beneath the tired earth 
and the machine 
sang his old song 
each click 
down 
down 
down 
a ballad of finality 
we still could not bring ourselves 
to leave. 
we all traveled too far 
adapted too quickly 
to one another again 
only to have to say 
goodbye 
not only to grandpa 
but to each other. 
it was a gift. 
to be with cousins
both old and new 
a lot of us 
climbed over with 
children of our own-
a new generation of cousins..
a gift
to remember together 
to share this common thread 
of loss, 
hard goodbyes, 
and an assurance that 
we would meet again 
in this life 
and the next. 
so yes, 
i think i do like 
funerals too. 
i like the softness. 
i like the wetness 
everywhere 
the goodbyes are always hard, yes 
but they increase my 
joy and dancing 
of the 
hello yet to come.