Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Only Time I Seem To Be Able To Schedule, Is Now.

"Tonight the conscience wanes and I,
pushed to the hilt with poisons given to me in love,
look to the comfort of cool sheets and my warm lover.

Soon I shall be adrift amid crashing waves -
of celestial stories from my sub-thought.
Like Golden Books of your youth you had never read,
stored in a basement to which you had no key.

My Father's voice, from the back of my memories,
reads aloud of these treasured books untold.
My Mother sings quietly behind him,

'Climb, climb up Sunshine Mountain
Heavenly breezes blow;
Climb, climb up sunshine mountain
Faces all aglow.
Turn, turn from sin and doubting,
Look to God above,
Climb, climb up sunshine mountain
You and I.'

I have lost, regained, and some lost again
every memory, laugh, heart-ache and smile.
Now I wish I'd held them tighter to my soul."


Today's entry, as one might have noticed, is a poem. Well, for the most part and all intents, it is a poem.

Lately I've found that there are moments where all that I feel, all that I wish to say and all that I truly need are blended in a whirlwind so massive it could fall both Wicked Witches, the entire citizenry of Oz and a small orchestra made of Disney barn-yard creatures. Some words are all wrapped up around my heart and throat, with no hint of letting go these means by which I communicate.

So for today, a poem... of sorts. Please forgive me this minor post and know that my heart is filled with chosen joy, even when my head... well... isn't.

I hope that God blesses you this week. I really do.

1 comment:

Spinman said...

Part lament, part praise. You're still listening.

Mike