So I Moved Across the Country

Again.

Everything has been crazy and stressful and exciting and fun. There are so many things up in the air and we’re just waiting to see what sticks the landing.

I’ve been home a little over a week. I missed home. A lot more than I thought I did. It’s good to be back.

Bobby and I both have found jobs. We’ll be able to pay bills and save. Things are working out for the first time in a long time it seems.

So yeah. I’ll try to be better. Because things are getting better. Welcome home.

A Piece of Heaven

Not many people get to know as many of my thoughts as you do
And maybe someday I’ll give you all of them

There’s something singing in my heart
As if it’s never been awakened before
I feel elated just knowing that if I wake up, I’ll get to see you again
Being in your vicinity is almost enough to keep me breathing

I don’t want to be afraid of you
Maybe I’ll learn to trust you someday
And maybe you won’t break it

I could shout your name from the rooftops
But I’m falling in love with loving you quietly

I don’t even want to apologize
For sinking so deep into this
Because I’ve never been so comfortable

And yes, I might expect you to end this any day now
But I don’t want to expect it
Forcing myself not to pull away from you
Because I want to keep pulling into you

I want to really be loved this time around
I want you to love me
And that scares the hell out of me
Because you feel like a piece of heaven

Me Too

You know when you’re certain something isn’t going to happen, because every time it could have happened; every time you thought it might happen; every time your heart made peace with it happening it didn’t happen?
But then at the time when you least expect it, when you’re thousands of miles away with not much money and only a frustrating phone call to go on, it happens?
Me too.

You know when you spend months planning, in innocence, half-heartedly fighting something; giving up and moving on, then accidentally giving in?
Every time you turn away and say no more something within you rebels and you know you’ll give in again, most nights?
Me too.

You know when you make conscious decisions to change your being for the better, making an effort to leave it all behind you?
But then something is destroyed and you discover that you brought it all with you anyway?
Me too.

You know when the crowd is constantly standing in ovation, while your heart, though elated, is still sunk in grief, and no one understands because you hide it well, so you find yourself sitting in a sea of standing bodies?
Me too.

But, you know when all you know has been uprooted, when you find yourself wallowing, when you feel more numb than you’ve ever been?
But you are loved anyway?  You are accepted anyway?  You are forgiven anyway?
Me too.

Arson

He stirs the waters
A storm on the horizon
Like the rising sun
He will not be ignored

Unsettled
Learning to rest in this
Rushing forward to the eye of the storm
There, in the center, peace is found

With every breath, Yahweh
Breathe him in
Breathe him out
Not gasping anymore

Every step of the way you have fought him
In acceptance and denial
But he has made you this way
He is proud of your fire

Your rebellious nature is one you have been brought up to carry with shame
Yet he breathed it into you at conception
His spark started a flame in you that only love can tame
And he is proud of your fire

Yahweh the arsonist set souls on fire with a new spirit
Though flames are something we have been taught to fear
Because we see only immediate destruction
Rarely has the time been taken to see the new life birthed from these fires

He is proud of your fire
He puts that fire in you
And you’re not going down in flames
If anything, you’re only going up

Time Passes Differently

My mother died almost two months ago.  I’m not really sure where to go from here.  But I have some thoughts.  I always have some thoughts.

I spoke at her service.  I wrote a poem and shared some thoughts, along with a poem that she wrote more than 30 years ago.  It was something personal.  Not something I planned on dwelling on.
But people keep asking me to send it to them.  People keep asking for copies.  And I don’t even have it typed up.  I’m not sure that I was planning on typing it up.  Not for a long while.  I feel like asking that of me is a bit insensitive, isn’t it?  I write a lot of things.  Why is this the one thing people keep bugging me about?

So anyway, after all of the mess, I’ve decided to put it here.  Here’s a poem.

 

There is pain
And there is peace
Pain for something lost that words cannot do justice
Peace, because there is no more pain

Songs are sung freely now
Lungs are not aching for breath
Mountains are climbed with ease, now
No need to stop and rest

Adventures can still be had
She’ll go with you still
With every new experience
Delight is more than real

It’s okay to laugh
I’m sure she’s laughing more
In fact, she’s probably dancing now
Her feet never touching the floor

There is a freedom to be basked in
A joy, lighter than air
A truth in her heart she can finally know
The promised land she always dreamed of

I’ve heard time passes different now
So while we’re down here mourning
She spends no time waiting for time to catch up
Saying “I’ll see you in the morning.”

We have pain
She’s in peace
Words can’t do this justice
But remember her peace, now, as she learns to dance in the rain

In the Wake

In the wake of the storm
A stillness unsettling
We dwell here
Searching for your peace

Pieces of our brokenness collected
Bringing them to our father
With tears streaming
Not realizing your joy at these gifts

You delight in your children
Yet we hide, ashamed
Believing we are naked in the garden
Not realizing you have already seen

We are not disappointments
Works in progress
You smile upon us
At every step

Every time we stumble
You are there to catch us
Not disappointments
As we chase you

Striving, ever striving
Not accepting rest
Afraid to settle
Your voice says, “just be still”

Leaps and bounds are not expected
The journey is what we were made for
You fall in love with our story
As we tell your story

We battled the storm
And you were with us
Your hand upon us
Carrying us when we couldn’t go on

Now here, in the wake
There is a stillness, unsettling
We can dwell here
Finding your peace

Blogging Everyday in July|A Poem About Clouds

Clouds are one of my favorite things.  If you follow me on Instagram, there’s no doubt that you’ve seen far too many photos of clouds, from the Sierra Wave to the fluffy clouds over the skies of Alabama.  I just love them.  I think they’re an art that we’ll never be able to form ourselves.   So someone asked me to write a poem about them.  And I did.

Clouds
Floating by silently overhead
Sky art
In waves and puffs of softness
Dense air holding water
Held up by invisible strings
Carrying joy, peace, anger, sadness, storms
Pour down on me
Pour down on me
Bring life
Refresh me
Warm summer rain
I am renewed