Apr 8, 2015

Once Love Bears a Weight .............

I found this poem in one of my journals.  I found it mostly written and dated from 11-25-2007.   I didn't work much more on it, because most of it felt just right.  It could still use some work but it's 7 years old already.  If it's ever going to see daylight, this is it.

My mother had passed 2 1/2 years before.  I was a single mother with 4 children still at home, with all the chaos that brings.
I had started drinking coffee and given up sleeping an entire night.  I had learned to appreciate the quiet of the night and the comfort of having all your children in your home, asleep in their own beds.  I was already starting to panic about those days passing so fast.
It seemed like just when I got the routine down, the routine would change and everybody would need different stuff.  It drove me ca-raaaaaaazy.

Thanksgiving was either looming or just past with Christmas looming and in those years I was having a very hard time getting into the holidays.  A very. hard. time.  Apathy had already set in and Abigail, who would be born (possibly) to snap me out of that, would still not be born for the better part of a year.  Times were dark.

I was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that nothing would ever be the same again whilst simultaneously trying to pretend that nothing had changed and we were all fine.  I don't, and didn't, and may never even know why.  It's what I did.  From what I can remember.  I am glad I lived through them.  Do what you want, if you find yourself in that place.  There is no right way that I know of.

Anyway, I like it.  I don't even really know what it's about, but I like it and all that was going on at the time.  I was 42 years old when I wrote this.

Once Love Bears A Weight......

This time of year
I weep slow tears

Slowly becoming aware
of missing some thing
instead of some one

Becoming at home
with being alone
Finding comfort in darkness and moonlight

Taking joy in the time
That God sets aside
for the night to acknowledge it's secrets.

The tears are unbidden
Within, joy is hidden
Portents of healing and burdens

Once love bears A weight,
A name and A shape,
You realize last chances come often.

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These are my thoughts, which sometimes drive me crazy and sometimes keep me sane, but are always entertaining. I call this Lace Your Days With Hope because I can't find enough hope to make an entire quilt out of. Stay tuned, and add your own!