Unpredictable Mother Nature

And then there was a rumble and the rain started down. 

No one else saw it coming but her.

It's not even dark out.

The sun hides behind the hazy clouds 

And a single bird still sings it's song.

But the rain continues it's path.

Slow and steady.

She prayed now, more then ever, for a 

ferocious storm.

Let it all out until there's nothing left.

Except the soggy ground to walk barefoot upon.

As the cars pass slapping their tires around,

It lingers on.

Reminding her that prayers are only answered if made with the best intentions.

Or not at all. 

(Who knows?)

You can't always get what you tell yourself you want.

But painfully it goes on once you realize it's what you need.

And then it too fades away, 

moving across the hemisphere.

Say What You Mean; Do What You Feel.

I've been trained to cover my eyes and listen.

My wish has always been for people to stand by their word...but words fall short.

It has become a welcoming life lesson of mine, recently, to instead listen to the 'actions' of others;
to see the honesty and passion in their eyes;  to hear what they are meaning to say through what they do and who they have become;
to feel with their touch and be comforted by their breath.

Not empty promises, future plans, poetic words, or even endless flattery.

The truth shouldn't need to be questioned or tested. You just have to open your eyes and believe what you are feeling no matter what is being said around you.

--written on May 30, 2013.

Losing what you needed to give you what you can have.

I struggled for days to put down some words.

Then, I wrote something brilliant.

After taking a sigh of relief to my writers block it was all deleted. 

No recovery.

Another sigh, 

This time of the mourning kind.

As I gave in and turned to sleep away my defeat I felt satisfied.

Although those words may never be recovered, at least they had a chance to exist together for a brief moment.

They served their purpose.

For a minute there I was "unstuck" and free.

For a minute I forgot how hard it was to do my self-inflicted job.

For a minute I thought it was right and I was going to be okay.

Then nothing.

The blank page staring at me as it did before, yet somehow now it wasn't so frightening.

It had just felt the weight of texts scattered across as the page became alive.

It held hope and promise.

Then the page, it too, suffered loss.

Feeling useless at the moment the page must still exist blank and ready for the writer to be inspired again.

So it waits without any other choice.

And I try again.

I will always try again.

Needed: Life tool box, with ducktape.

Right now, this queen of avoidance would give anything to fix a problem of her heart.

How do I fight for something while I'm still waiting to figure out what it is?

My honesty has failed me so many times in the past but I can't help to just be real. 

I don't know how to hold back. 

A quality of admiration in others is my curse.

Maybe if I am more honest with myself it would break the spell.

But the fantasy clouds I escape to are a part of the spell.

Those clouds, my only comfort.

I know that I should take care of myself first but that's not something I think I'll ever learn how to do.

I'm a creature of habit who has only ever been able to focus my energy on worrying. 

Without my strongest flaw I would be more lost than confused.

Either way, it's hard to find direction without a map or compass.

Allowing Myself a Sighful Smile.

And tonight he said "you're good for me." And I knew he was (the) right. 

But what I want more than anything in the world is for him to know 
he's saving my life.

Every day spent with him
I heal a little more,
I feel a little more,
I believe a little more. 

That's a power I never believed anyone would share with me. 

When I'm not around him I find myself feeling as if this isn't real.

It can't be this easy.

I'm waiting for a ball to drop.
But there is no game. 
This is life and were living it.

It's honest and genuine 
meaningful simplicity. 
Better than any fantasy or fairytale. 

It's my reality.

And it's about damn time I get to be in it.

I May Leave, but I Always Return.

It's so peaceful and calming.
Too few hours ago it was shaking with waves.

An imperfect view,
but I yet sea the light
fading into the distance.

This breeze has become more than a chill.

Screams from my Ohio coat,
too heavy to put on still.

Where to from here?

As the coast begins to close it's eyes,
I ready myself to brace the cold again.

Somewhere I rushed to be my whole life,
I hurry to get home to.

These washed-up shores hold nothing to the
mild pleasures of independence in the Midwest.

I wrap myself in my colors that few understand.
Place my heavy pen back in it's velvet pouch.

Close my journey that's barely used
--stained with waiting and hopefulness of blank pages ahead.

All packed up and ready to return to the future that is all mine.



No, it's not sad.

It is not lonely
(anymore).

Not one person's dream.

Just my simple,
beautiful,
reality.