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Far too many
are blinded by what they see,
deafened by what they hear,
pascified by what they do,
valued by what they have,
and numbed by what they feel.

Dare to venture yet deeper
within thy own being.
Do not surrender so lightly
to spiritual atrophy
for thy Godself shall suffice!

Thy Well
is not to be so shallow
even in the worst known droughts
of the Soul.
 Feb 2016 Mica Light Poetry
r
Ache
 Feb 2016 Mica Light Poetry
r
My toothache reminds
me of heartbreak.

The sweetness
that brought it.

As real as a headache.
An abstract thought.

Barbed wire through
a work glove. Old love letter cuts.

Kind of like love, yeah
kinda like love.
~

bits and pieces,
lines and creases,
dusty shelves
of storied past;
where could-haves
turned should-haves,
make half-lives gone by.
haunt in our reticence,
expressed in our sigh;
they hide in our silence,
betrayed by our tears,
from missed opportunities
     down through the years.

this is no stroll
o’er memory’s lane,
but a ***-holed, hard-roll
on a boulevard unnamed,
     where deepest regrets
          must defend against shame.

~

i make my peace
by drawing a line,
before it can fade
shifting with time.
i say “enough!
this far and no more!”

i give it my heel
and walk out that door.
past the garden,
past the fences,
to the edge of my mind,
resolve saying, “goodbye”  
      to this pain i have known.

then for reasons unfathomed
i turn at the bend,
to see what i'll miss
as if that place were my friend,
yet that house where i lived
so long and knew well,
was standing no longer,
up in smoke, gone in flames,
     now just ashes and bricks
          are all that remained.

~

so homeless i felt,
with no place to return.
no basement to bury
the ghosts of my past;
no attic to wander,
no hallways to creep,
no corners to ponder,
no front porch to weep,
lost without home,
     now no pillow to sleep.

“please turn around,”
spoke, a voice on the breeze
“there's a new life ahead”
and then, to my relief,
“you're not homeless, my son;
you’ve a new windowed view!
square your shoulders
to the pathway,
see the journey anew!
in promising thoughts
so hopefully wrought
of brand new can-be’s
that only dreamers can see
these, are your new life
you're not abandoned, but free.
     let regrets turn to fuel
          build steam from this fire.”


~

as i turned back to thank
the voice offering these words
i found no sage of advice
but here’s what i heard.
"offer thanks to your own heart,
to strength buried within.
the matches lay dormant
’til your heart found its stremgth.
the mere act of leaving
was the spark for your fire;
     for in striking your new path
          your past built your pyre.”


~

*post script.

after much stirring, much wrestling, we are now with anticipations imagining what will change as we light the fire.  i’m excited about the possibilities as we let go.
I've been hurt before by love
But fly off and away like a dove.
The sting goes away
With each passing day,
But when once I was young
And first learned love stung...
That pain is here to stay.
I am a dreamer.
I am a thought.
Industrious steamer,
I'm certainly not.
I care too much
For ideas and such.
For I am a dreamer.
I am a thought.
I like to think and dream.
I cannot speak, I cannot write
I fear that you won't end my plight.
The charity of your kiss
Is all that I will truly miss.

Tonight I go, tonight I stay
My sovereignty has gone away.
For while my treach'rous tounge's at bay,
I find myself to be your slave.
The sensation you get when the One doesn't notice you. Mute.
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