Crafty Child

Bright-eyed young girl,
Curious and crafty,
Let’s start a project and learn to crochet.

Tiring quickly,
She abandoned the lesson.
She couldn’t see past the first stitch-
Obsessed with chains, with growing taller,
The neverending line of connection
So easily unfurled.

Chains, chains, chains.
Chains everywhere and every day.
Quickly and carefully created by this crafty girl
And unraveled even faster,
The impermanence of childhood
Displayed through her repetitive ritual.

She lost interest as quickly
As any other once-inspired child,
And many years without crocheted chains passed
Before a spark of inspiration woke her from her daze.

Timid hands picked up threadbare yarn, dusted with age.
Fingers moved as if possessed,
Creating chains came so easily
And her inner child was elated by the familiarity
Of her once daily routine.

The desire to unwind, to unfurl
Pulled so strong within her,
But the necessity
To create, to give life, to build something that matters
Overcame all else.

She kept making chains.
She made chains and then kept working.
She kept building on the foundation
To create something strong
Something useful
Something beautiful for herself.
For herself, she kept creating.

Untold Stories

Papers-

Papers everywhere-

Thoughts unfinished

Questions unanswered

Stories told

Or not.

I’ve spun so many tales

Shared so many lives

With myself

In the confines of my own haven.

But these words

Stories

Papers-

Papers everywhere-

Mean nothing

If these stories go untold.

Work in Progress

Vivid white paper

Stands out against dark lines

Waiting to be written upon.

Words may come

Words may be erased

But thoughts are never ending.

This time,

Write in pen

To immortalize your intentions.

Take action to show improvement-

As all living things

Are a work in progress.

Finding Myself

Exhausted with potential interests

I bury myself deep

Layers upon layers of comfort

Holding me back from exploring.

A fire burns within me

But my cold emotions seek solace.

Envy’s seeds are planted within,

A hint that spring is coming.

How do I plant seeds of hope instead?

I want to change along with the seasons

But what can I do

To break free from old habits

To explore new possibilities

And to find myself whole?

Passed

I wonder

What my life would be

Had I never met you.

It would have been bliss

Not to endure

The lie, fights, pain

And ignorance.

But where would I be today

If I hadn’t been

By your side

When no one else was?

Would I know how

To support myself and others?

Would I love to teach growth?

Would I love to heal

Tender wounds with tender words?

Are these traits

Ingrained in me

Or were they gifts from the past?

 

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Rain

Isn’t it amazing

How the simplicity

Of water

Falling

Has the ability to

Purify the transgressions of the world

And set our minds at ease

To start anew?

The act of falling-

A devastating blow-

Occurs before we build

Ourselves back up.

 

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Warmth

You are irresistible with

Those thoughtful eyes

That shadowed smile

And the way you say

“I love you.”

A treat.

Comfort.

I’m drinking you in

Like a warm mug

Of lightly sweetened tea

On a cold winter day.

Cuddle up with me

Like a weighted blanket.

Warm my body

My mind

And my soul.

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Getting Help

I want to tell you

How I’m feeling

But don’t want dependence

To weigh you down.

 

I want you to see

That I’m hurting.

It should be obvious

Without words.

 

I want to know

Why nobody is around

When I’m hurting the most

But I don’t want an audience

For my tears.

 

I want to be heard

But can’t help

Soldiering on in silence.

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