Digging up the darkness

It has been three long days,

of routine,

of soul work,

of digging up the darkness,

part of you and part of I.

Physical, sexual, emotional abuse,

they all leave their mark,

there is no use hiding from it,

still further, no use talking about it,

only a routine, a patterning of human behaviors

can normalize you and I.

Too well-educated to ever agree to professional help,

to bright we would only show them what they want so see,

then run circles around them because we can,

to stubborn to give in,

to relinquish our lives or label them as broken,

self-control, that is all and it keep us here.

Yet I can get nothing past you,

and you can’t hide from me

so here we are,

able and well matched

to set to work

and we work each other over,

thoroughly.

Now exhausted,

from this 24hr routine,

and three days in,

tired out.

This is it,

we need a break

and tonight it is time,

run a hot bath,

break open the red wine,

dive into junk food and the sweets we love

embrace the reprieve.

Transitions: A lesson

Yesterday was a lesson

boundaries are fluid,

they most certainly are not set in stone.

Neither should their treatment approach.

You’ll return to what you know,

when it starts to snow inside.

The fear, followed by vigilant observation – from a distance,

then retreat into helpless silence

I’ll wait for you to stand there – wide-eyed and watching,

the smallest child,

I’ll not follow you for it would only intensity your fear,

waiting,

for what seems a long time,

for you to make the first move,

you come seeking,

and I will be there to meet your needs,

something soft and slow,

direct with absence of any violent blow,

not something the child in you will know.

Then I’ll hand you hot food and watch you eat

supervised eating,  paternalistic healthcare,

only when your most basic needs are met

can I meet the greater ones – to make you laugh.

This is something basic,

something human and whole,

something that each person needs to feel worthwhile and nourished.

Twelve hour later

you are no longer on the defensive,

exhausted and accepting

before you are ready to learn a small lesson about boundaries:

None of us likes change,

transitions provoke anxiety, a great deal of uncertainty

if all we have known has been negative.

The dog barks in frustration,

having been set alone and apart upstairs,

isolation for any social animal is punishment,

I admit I used him – an opportunistic lesson for you,

We sit downstairs,

the minutes slide by and he barks at regular intervals,

you give in, you go to him,

you reinforce that if he bargains long enough,  you will grant him his wish,

that of your company,

he quiets with you,

then without transition, you leave,

upstairs he can be heard, bargaining anew.

You can’t stand it anymore,

in anguish you ask for help.

As always I’ll wait for you to be open and ready – there is a lesson here.

I walk up the stairs and stand

two meters from the closed door.

the dog hears my breathing – nothing more.

Over the next 15 minutes I move

away,

inch by inch,

the sound of my regular inhale and hyperaudable exhale retreat

slowly,

consistently,

with great patience of one who has,

moved mountains one stone at a time and all is quiet.

There were bullets in the air and they still carry on

Just like a heartbeat,

the drumbeat carries on,

this is the trauma,

these are the harsh words,

this is the retreat,

this cold and the distance

all that remains when,

there bullets through the air and they carry on.

This where we are,

picking up the pieces of another life,

you can’t fall asleep,

something’s clearly wrong,

You are tense,

you don’t eat.

It filters back to air raids

and the dust in the air,

a motherless toddler screams,

an officer slits his wrists,

here it is,

the civilian, turned nurse will stand by him

and they will not speak of it,

years later with a new wife there is too much strife

and anger and tension erupts and they fight,

children are backhanded and stand frozen,

caught in between with nowhere to run.

There were bullets in the air, they still carry on

dust everywhere,

just like the heartbeat,

the drumbeat carries on

generations are born into, breath and adapt to,

with the impact from years ago.

The night before

I bend down over  you,

careful this time,

not to arouse you, wake you,

you were up sometime in the middle of the night,

unable to sleep.

The night before,

I woke you, wanting,

my fingertips, my tongue,

exploring until you became aroused,

then my hand griping you,

moving assured, decisive,

until you ejaculate,

and afterwards, always,

I cannot understand

how it is you say,

You have known no other woman who knows how

to take you this way.

I have no answer,

I watch your body, your face,

it is your book of requests,

showing me where to go.

Accidents in the rain

The rain is falling – hard.
Not even the dog is willing to give up
a warm bed.
It takes multiple encouragements
to have him stay,
just as soon as wound care and meds are done
he disappears.
Stepping out into a wet world calms me,
no hustle and bustle,
Sunday morning the world all but sleeps
savoring the quiet,
the rain on the roof of the car,
the small rivers at the streets edge.
There will be accidents,
if not already.
Two police cars light up in front,
making tight turns,
breaking.
“In another life,
I would be your girl
The one that got away,
the one that got away..”
the lyrics to the song echo,
then all too soon,
the intersection ahead is lit up with lights,
flashing blue and red.
One life,
one life, that got away,
in this Sunday rain.

Let go of your worries (Rumi)

Let go of your worries
and be completely clear-hearted,
like the face of a mirror
that contains no images.
If you want a clear mirror,
behold yourself
and see the shameless truth,
which the mirror reflects.
If metal can be polished
to a mirror-like finish,
what polishing might the mirror
of the heart require?
Between the mirror and the heart
is this single difference:
the heart conceals secrets,
while the mirror does not.

Love remains

Love remains,
in the days end,
in the small gestures and even fewer words,
that pass between two people,
there is no amount of money,
no prized possessions that may keep it,
but in the silence,
the touch or a look,
love breathes in and out, circulates through
and radiates
untarnished by the unspeakable witnessed,
vibrant though prognosis holds no promise

Love remains between two who
have seen too much,
have nothing left to say and
still find a way.
It is mysterious and comforting,
it spans distance and time,
it extends beyond the last breath
it begins with the first.

Love is perhaps the most wonderful
a gift one will ever
give or receive.

A wedding in December,
The wedding just before the world retreats
into a blanket of cold and white: death
it speaks to commitment, to something known,
but unknowable,
white on white, something that all but disappears to all but two.

As the eagle flies

The eagle flies overhead,
his wing span almost the width of my outstretched arms,
he is mature, distinguished,
white tail and deep black body plumage,
He has learned a few tricks having made it out,
of his first year alive,
then much more after that.
These birds are always a sign,
some deep understanding that I am once again at a milestone
worth marking.
The last few months are a blur,
some brilliant time with hours that were too long,
too many late nights and far too many tasks
accomplished all at once.
Now I have arrived once again
at the door of my own life,
and asked permission to enter within,
merely getting through the day on thought and reason,
left me empty and hollow,
now you have me caught up unable to even pass you by,
without reaching out to touch.
You are in my dreams and the strength of your grip,
your presence in my life remains:

the bird on the wing overhead.

The courage to dance

Love, you spent a good chunk of last week

facing your fears.

It takes courage to love,

courage to see your past

and courage to recall again and again why

you come back to me,

back to us,

it all comes back to us.

I wonder where I have been the last months,

since September I have been driven,

focused and working.

Hiding from hurt, running from what is close enough to touch.

Hurt from the past can run deep,

Love asks us to risk,

to stretch up beyond our comfort.

We stand before one another,

doing the dance,

steps apart, steps back together,

two simple steps and round we go.

Dancing and the words echo :

“I’ve been searching a long time for someone exactly like you,

I’ve been burying my head in the sand, waiting for the light to shine through,

I have been doing some soul searching,

to find out where you were at…”

We step together,

then apart,

these are the sparks,

this is the fear,

this is running from,

coming back to,

back to you.

If I have hurt you,

something I’ve said made you uneasy,

I do apologize,

for the words, spoken too quickly, I do,

gentle language and a little grace help us save face.

There are times when I’ll take the lead,

and in this dance you will follow,

out onto uncomfortable ground,

you would not dare go alone,

you are not alone in this,

this exhilaration,

or the fear

that to love is to risk,

risk joy and risk hurt.

Nothing worthwhile is ever easy and this is worth that fight or flight.

In plain sight

She will be there

waiting for you,

like you might have wished her to.

Confident and stirred,

or perhaps simply effete, she is still.

Emotionally labile something she won’t admit to.

Your level of self control is beyond

any other she has known.

For that reason you captivate her.

A lesser man would have had her,

smooth talked and impression drunk into bed,

with very little said.

Instead you have her attention,

a cut above all the rest.

A room full of people had departed

you both remained, speaking of death.

Strange how the most elegant people

are drawn into such dark work.

An elegant look is how they hide in plain sight.

Appearances may deceive.