Rise from the ashes

The ashes of our love

Blessed be they…

They together

From us apart

Blessed be they

All in a whirl

It was three months ago

His kind tender eyes

His smile of joy

He gave me flowers

My favorite

Daisies

I lost myself in their sweet scent

And looking after him

As he walked away

Lingering in love

That was the last time I saw him

Alive

An hour later I received a phone call. “Alan’s in the ER. He’s hurt real bad…I think he’s dying.” My life froze and shattered to fractals. I hung up silently, mechanically. Somehow I drove myself to the hospital and was led to his bed where strangers in white coats and clipboards were staring and scribbling and jabbering about nobody-cares-what.

I slipped to his side

Gripped his cold stiff fingers

The heart monitor ran flat

He had gone

But I was still catching up

Belief urged but refused

The little pieces of my heart

Crumbling to nothing on the floor

Icy cold

His hand

His eyes

My heart

Fiery hot

My eyes

Stinging

Agony

Such pain and loss

Too sharp to be felt

I would never see him again

That’s when I broke

And the better part of me died

The withered bouquet of daisies

Hangs a talisman over my bed

More than a memory or keepsake

It’s a fragment of my past

I never want to lose

So please don’t send me flowers

Especially daisies

You’ll break my heart thrice over again

Once for Alan

Once for daisies

Once for you

Because I can’t deny I love you too

The mist shrouded the mountain like a snake that is about to squeeze its prey

At this place, far away from human civilization, I found my nirvana—

fresh air, fresh view, and fresh climb

Trees stretched their fingers towards the azure sky while bees and flies

circled around their trunks, always searching for something,

maybe blossoms that never grew on the branches

I too, am searching for something...

Peace and serenity

Darting around in circles, the swallows performed gymnastics as they rushed upwards, plunged down in neat swoops, and then spiraled into the air

Grey-headed bullfinches sat unperturbedly on flowering bushes and fruit-laden trees

as rain lightly licked their feathers

A bird hopped on its feet and looked at me with curious, black eyes

I stood there, unmoving

A straw-thatched house perched on a grassy slope, its door ajar as if inviting me in From the west, a puff of wind lightly tingled the straw on the roof and dipped its fingers in the sluggish river below

Sheltered by lush plants and friendly animals, I even forgot that this was a tourist site—it was a comfortable home for me

However, my reverie was broken when my mother

and some crazy monkeys stepped in my way

“Smile!” my mother yelled to me as she snapped a picture

of me gaping at the mountain

“Oh mom, you broke the silence!” I complained

“We’re going down the mountain anyway,” she replied

As I descended, I took one last look at the startling Giotto-blue sky

and the swallows that dotted it

But before my we reached the bottom, several monkeys blocked the way

One monkey grabbed my leg and hugged it as if it were a precious piece of banana

Another monkey approached and reached for my floral scarf

I was aware that Mom was probably saving this memory inside her camera

As I detangled out of the monkeys’ reaches, I realized that

I was actually enjoying their presence—

that was until one jumped on my back and tried to rip my hair out

And I also realized that my water bottle in my backpack was gone

As I veered off into the craziness that represents my world,

I stole a moment to just breathe,

took in the magnificent view,

and found peace to take with me

But even with the flowers, trees, and other parts of nature

that I feverishly love so much,

from the safe haven of my backyard to the green spaces of the park,

I felt at peace on this mountain

I rested on the rocky slope overlooking the mountain,

able to gaze out much farther and stand much taller than I typically can

I enjoyed the rough climb upwards because at the apex

I could survey what looked like the whole world

On that mountain, I realized that what captured my heart about the climb is that once I reached my destination, I became part of Nature—

I was in the clouds,

the river flowing below,

the ghostly mist,

the twittering birds,

and the playful monkeys

Soaring shaping bending back

Like leaves aflutter swooping rise

Down delve deep my soul aflame

Bursting forth in freedom song through skies

Raise the fountain coursing joy

Feel the charm of pouring rain

Sing aloud like honey drips

That sweet sweet heaven speckled star

Comets circling in the clouds

Hide-and-seek dart in and out

Cup and dive to swoop once more

Soaring shaping bending back

My fingers hover over the keyboard

I don’t know what to type

I’m afraid of what should come

If I really lose myself in the writing

Sometimes when I zone out

I look back at what my fingers do

And am astonished

I had no idea that was even in my mind

It scares me

I don’t want to be an open book

Especially for strangers online

My mom did that

It was really bad

She wasn’t even trying poor thing

But I won’t think about it

I refuse to think about it

And I will not let any such thing happen to me

Not me

So this I am afraid to lose myself in writing

Funny because when I feel stressed

Or scared

I choose to plunge into the keyboard

And lose myself in writing

But not this time

This time I hold myself back

Reserved

Out of fear

Fear

Fear

Fear is an interesting word

It can mean both good and bad

“Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”

But fear of people is sinful

Fear of yourself is real

I am afraid of myself

Those pieces I have stored so carefully

In the deep recesses of my mind

I am afraid they will resurface

If I lose myself

I don’t want that

I close my eyes and hide away

From the fact I know myself

To be a horrendous hideous monstrous creature

Deserving of nothing

Yet I can’t let it show

When some of those pieces come to light

The people stare

They walk away

Leaving me more alone than over

And they think that’s the worst of it

They have no idea

Tip of the iceberg

The iceberg that will sink the Titanic

The Titanic me

Seeming beautiful

But deeply flawed

Doomed to sink

Down

Down

Down

Until all the good in me dies

And my life is a wreck

At the bottom of the ocean

People don’t talk about when the Titanic sailed beautiful

They talk about when it sank

How it never resurfaced

How nearly everything on it died

I stare

Into the inky black of night I stare

The starless sky is bewitching

Swallowing

Holding tight

Deep silent abyss

Here I find comfort

A friend

I am called to work by gray

Blue is my companion

Hues of orange and pink and purple greet my return

Reminding me of beauty

Majesty

Splendor

Bedecked with ever changing beads of glass

Richly bare

Pure and whole

Fades slowly to black

Inky black

A tear slips out

I taste the salt

Bittersweet

I pour out my heart

A torrent of emotion

The void swallows them all

My cares, my griefs, my pains

My loves, my joys, my song

Carried on the wind

To the ears of Eternity

Before His feet I grovel in anguish

Remembering what he did for me

How ungrateful I am

How unworthy I am

How unworthy

And yet

With open embrace and silent caresses

He holds me

Alone I stare up and through

Penetrating the depths of infinity

I am cleansed

My soul is free

Like a leaping doe in the freshest of spring

I am empty now

For a precious moment

My load will grow burdensome again

As it has time and time before

And the inky black remains

Always there

Waiting for me

Swallowing

Holding tight

Deep silent abyss

Here I find comfort

A friend

At the end of every day

I stare into the sky

I pour my troubles out

I lay them down before my Maker

He cleanses me and empties me

Prepares me for the coming dawn

I will return to Him

When the sky goes black again

I stare

Into the inky black of night I stare

The starless sky is bewitching

Swallowing

Holding tight

Deep silent abyss

Here I find comfort

A friend

I could start

With enhanced psychological definitions

“Depression is a state of mind

Caused by or causing low levels of serotonin

In the brain.

Comes in many forms

Only characterized by how intense it is

And how long it lasts…”

But I’m not going to start that way

I’m going to start with a testimony

Once upon a time

A girl woke up screaming

Not in fright but in pain

Not physical pain

But intense anxiety

She was dying

Or coming close

Or giving up

Who knew the difference?

No one looking

And she was too much in turmoil

To know

“What’s wrong darling?”

Leave me alone!

“Please tell me!”

Chest heaving—go!

“I can’t leave you like this!”

Screaming: GO!!

That woke her older sister

She calmly slipped from bed

Grabbed her second journal

And her favorite pen

With easy-flowing ink

She said nothing

When she came and joined her sister

She sat down beside her

Rubbing her still-heaving shoulders

They trembled and slowly fell still

Mother stood watching from the corner

She handed her her journal

And favorite pen

“Write it all away”

She whispered

She opened it

Her sister slowly grabbed the pen

Touched it to paper

Her sobs had ceased

The lines flowed easily

Scratching words into the beautiful lined paper

Though it was dark

The pen scratched faster and faster

Unseen by all but one mind

Who knew exactly what it was doing

And where it was going

Her shoulders heaved once more

Her breathing deepened and hastened

Her sister hugged her tight

And kissed her tear-streaked face

The pen stopped

As if the mind behind it was brought

Slamming back to reality

She returned the hug from her sister

She smiled as she fell

Back into her bed

Exhausted

“Thank you” she whispered

And was asleep within moments

Her sister rose

Taking the journal and pen

Led Mother out of the room

And silently shut the door

They both read what their sister wrote

Beautiful but terrible words

And their eyes filled with tears

Writing is a portal to the soul

Delivering the images in our mind

And impressing them on paper

Turmoiled thoughts

The mind cannot bear

Must be thrust out

Before they destroy

They build a fog in our brain

A deep, dense fog

So no one may see and understand

It blocks us from us

It destroys us from within

Writing it out in solidarity

An outlet for the fog

Drains it and channels it

To the paper

And like all fog

When it contacts cool dry air

It disappears