Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Beautiful Brucey


Beautiful Brucey

at first, you might be easy to miss
not physically-- for you are as BIG a giant oak
if fact, your size might just scare people

your eyes might seem a little shifty
and you could be called evasive or even
standoffish or maybe even guilty
it kinda makes you easy to ignore

and then there’s your
refusal to do your work
hard headed, class clown
DEFIANT

Nobody has time for someone
One who won’t help themselves

and let’s be honest Bruce
you steal
bikes
nobody likes that
not even your mom

but then you’re not sure she
likes you

even when you were
CONFRONTED
you didn’t really care
stating you weren’t afraid
of jail…..almost like you had
decided that’s where you belong



one day you were spotted
riding your bike
like a five-year boy
free as a bird
and you were
beautiful

not easy to miss
around that time is when you became Brucey

and we began to see you


your size that makes you so
scary
comes in handy at rugby
where you are the MVP

and your eyes that seemed a little shifty
brightened up like stars on the blackest night
 as we stood on the sidelines
cheering you on

your “refusal” to do your work
your DEFIANCE –proves to be an obvious mask 
you are tired of just not knowing
amazingly...it lifted during
the 14 hours we spent at my house
working on your project
when I woke up
you were still awake typing

also early one morning
i saw you on a bike
riding your sister on your handlebars
and your brother on the pegs
their taxi to school-

its true nobody likes a thief
and I know you agree
but Brucey,
nobody likes poverty,
hopelessness and
let's be honest
nobody likes riding two
siblings to school
only to be late to
your own

i see you fighting
to be beautiful
but I want you to know
you … already are

our eyes just aren’t trained
to see it
but thank you Brucey
because of you
i feel beautiful too

Saturday, January 2, 2016

a forest of memories




Memory is an invitation to the source of our life, to a fuller participation in the now...We actually inhabit memory as a living threshold...a crossroads where our future diverges according to how we interpret or perhaps more accurately, how we live the story we have inherited.
--David Whyte


some gentle like the sun shining through the trees 
warm enough to enjoy the gentle breeze.
 bright enough to see the beauty surrounding me, not scorching or blinding.

the perfect harmony of ecosystems that exist in concert and unbeknownst beauty.

some are like a ravenous fire.
 that threaten the core of my soul.
 singeing my heart and creating chaotic fear.
the path of fire has no mercy. no logic.
nor does it seem survivable

it destroys much of the familiar landscape. 
altering views, vistas and, ecosystems.

others are cold winters of rain and snow.
  often both harsh and soft. 
harsh like bitter cold, me chilled to the bone. 
loneliness. questions. frozen still. dark. 
loneliness again. 
soft like bears in hibernation 
resting for the next big thing.
snowflakes falling and dancing in the muted sunlight. 

leaving a hopeful glimpse of things to come.

still other are like the new growth.
 after the fire simmers or the winter snow melts. 
the juxtaposition of beautifully colored tulips 
next to charred bark and wilted trees. 
their existence more of a statement. 

a refusal to NOT exist.

looking back, each memory is nestled within
choices, faces, and faith. 
a pathway to today. to here. 
a roadmap of how to fail. how to overcome. how to wait. how to stand.
how to move forward.
 forgiveness of others and oneself. 
mostly oneself.
acceptance of truth and power and love.
mostly of oneself.
promises to live into, stronger, more authentically.

alive.