Sick of running

I ball my shaking hands into fists and spin to face the monster

The ripping and roaring it’s been doing behind me is terrifying but not as scary as the thought of running forever

And when I turn and stare the monster in the eye it stares back at me knowingly with it’s horrible red gaze

But I don’t waver

I raise my fists and scream

“KILL ME if you’re going to! I won’t run anymore!”

And in that moment all of the monster’s sharp teeth begin to tumble from its mouth one by one

And the horrifying roar turns into feeble whimpers

And I realize the monster is wearing a collar

And the beast becomes hairless as it shrinks and shrinks

And the collar is connected to a leash

And the leash is being held so firmly

...By my Father

Strings placed so tight

Right on the puppet’s

Arms~ the shoulders,

Wrists ready to be pulled

Entire body dragged in one

direction that only pleases

the one who’s in charge

The puppets do not get

To have any say-- oh no-

Every puppet must know

That the Master is in control

None should forget that—

Leave (all) the decision making

To the Puppet Master!

#ThePuppetMaster

March/friday\6.3.2020

Heaviness

The weight

Of despair

Is a

Rhinoceros

Its armor

Blocking

Love

Friendship

Healing

Grace

Its horn

Threatening

Foreboding

Dangerous

Deadly

Heart burdened

By sorrows

Created

Long ago

Begging

To be

Released

Chest tight

Tears

Nearby

But

Armor

And

Horns

Keep everything

Locked

Inside.

2/28/20

My grandma often complained to others about me. “If there’s a hole on the ground, her leg has to get in there. If there is a single rock peeping out of a wasteland, she has to trip on it. There is no ditch she has not fallen into, and there’s probably no tree she has not slid down from.” The insistence with which she used the ‘she has tos,’ did not escape anyone.

I can’t blame her. My finely brushed ponytail would be askew in seconds. The beautifully pressed dress would come back with rips in less than half hour from the time I wore it. You see, I would have crawled between barbed wire fences meant to keep curious visitors like me out. Even before ripped jeans were in fashion, my jeans were always ripped at the knees. "You must have saws for knees," was the standing joke.

There was not a tree I could not climb or a stream I could not dip my toe into. I learned many things by myself. I learned to bike way before I was old enough to sit on the seat. I learned to climb the rocks and mountains. Scraping and skinning joints were normal. I was not afraid of heights, depths, adventures...or falling. Most of all, I learned this valuable lesson all by myself. Getting into something’s always a lot easier than getting out of it.

I’ve grown out of all those shenanigans, and I laugh when I see the faded scars. Each one has a memory.

Life can also be unkind, and if it must allocate scars to people, let them always be like mine.

My loving mother would feel sad to see my wounds. “Why can’t you be like the other girls?” But, I wore the scars proudly like a medal. Everytime I came back with a new scrape, I would be taken to the old neighborhood doctor. His hands often trembled and I suspected his memory integrity. But, he always remembered me. The old man truly hated the job when I was hauled by mom for treatment and dressing. He would have to run around with a tetanus injection needle and bandages in the small office, chasing a young girl screaming to high heaven.

His perplexed question was the same to my mother, “How does she come back with all these wounds and scars without tearing up and yet manage to create this much drama for a mere shot?”

Listen to the rhythm

ocean’s heartbeat,

awakening my longing

as my lips follow

shape of shivers.

My soul overflows,

buried deep within

aqua waves -

whispering hiss

of worries carried

away by sea surges,

strings of pelicans

strung in V’s

single blue crayon line

ocean meets sky.

Voltage jolts with

salt air breaths

wildness unrestrained

as calmness settles

like residue on skin

touched by silver fingers

of unfathomed sea,

ocean crests protecting

like warm wombs,

stars mobbing sky

in evening blackness,

drops of myself

left in grains of sand,

salted kernels sifting

through my soul.

hearts are

r sky-blue,

u glazed

O with hope,

but,

let’s not

fall

in

love.

Let the sun,

the moon

and

the stars

elope;

writing stories

that dreams

are

made

of

.

Sometimes being surrounded by trees feels like being in a sanctuary and God meets me there

and we sit together

and I take

a moment to lay down my worries and fears

and God takes

my worries and fears and folds and shapes them into opportunities for peace and trust

And the trees take

all the time they need to heal, let go and grow

And I can too

In sickness & in health

I’ll be there (right) by your side

No matter what will happen

Know that I will always be ready

to face any challenge that comes.

You are my beloved, my angel,

the one I love and live for.

I promise to be there for you,

at all times of this life we’re given.

I have come to cherish all the

moments that we spend together

and I am glad, my heart’s bursting

with joy, that I get to spend the

rest of my life with you— to see

your face every morning, day and

night- when you fall sick~ I will

care for you and be ready to do all

that I can to see that you get better.

I promise to be patient, and continue

to take you out on dates, even just

getting to have movie nights with you-

for wherever you are near- that’s all

that matters to me my darling. I can’t help falling in love with you!

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=WUaBjgmhCK8