The Cloud within my feet

Impact from a water drop causes an upward &quo...

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I stood on top a cloud today
Dipped my toes
Within
And heard the murmurings
Of a thousand oceans
The tides that had drawn
And changed beneath
Feet like mine
That declared
Only one world of water
But could exist
I dipped deeper
Knowing
That I would never
Truly know
In this mortal form
How many oceans
Or seas there had been before
And would be again
Reflecting
On the images of
myself

Life Unfolded

Do you ever wonder,

why you are here?

In blogland?

Is that even a word, blogland?

I sit in the spaces,

of the music tonight,

Sarah McLaughlin playing,

I could not find the other cds I wanted to hear,

it does not make her unworthy,

but perhaps,

timely.

Did I tell you the story?

Once upon a time,

there was a little girl,

she was too big,

yet too small,

she set off for school,

on one of those buses,

you know,

the yellow ones,

she couldn’t reach the first step,

but refused the help of her family,

the bus driver reached down,

across three ascending steps,

a hand,

and grabbed her,

into tomorrow.

He reached,

and she held,

and she stepped,

into the time,

that was not defined.

She was gone.

She spent the days after,

sometimes,

well,

maybe only once,

being forgotten,

on the very front seat of the bus,

the one behind the driver,

reflected in that big mirror,

but not seen,

the littlest one,

there that day,

into the bus pulled into the yard,

and someone,

a stranger,

found her,

unaccounted for….

she arose the next day,

nonetheless,

and got back up those stairs,

without a hand that time,

she did not want one.

She got off the bus,

the right stop this time,

and at three,

or was it four,

she remembered,

the sun playing across the cement,

the butter in her hand,

eaten,

without the excuse of bread.

The way the sun

sat upon the world,

not asking,

but,

saw.

And in this moment,

this fresh, new Spring,

she wonders,

if the girl,

will have her back.

The Dandelion

I turned my head

And You were gone

 

I hear sounds around the realm of me

I don’t know what they are

What You are doing

 

Yet

I claim

To know You

Better than anyone

But I can’t feel

What would happen

If we surrendered

To the world around us


If we hung our heads

And just admitted

That it was not for us to see

 

But since

We don’t know

It’s not then pretend,

is it?

I make rules

And regulations

On Your speech

When I defend others

Whose rules?

Not Jesus

I lift from my seat typing those six letters

Lord hear me

 

If I could explode the world would tremble

If I gave even a percentage

Of what happens inside of me

Even witnessed a moment

Of how

I want to scoop

Up the pain

In the world and tend to it

A gardener

In an untended basket

I want my hat pulled low

My brim to the Earth

I want to bow in thanks

I want to dance

And tell You

 

Celebrate

When my feet hit Your contours

I want to say

I am sorry for being ashamed

Of

Being alive

 

I am sorry

I apologize for who I am

that would bow

to You

 

Yet

kiss the dandelion

peeking out

between the cement slabs

The Valley is Mine

The Lord God

is beautiful

He lives within

the valley of my days

He stands

watches

and wrings His hands

as I

set the water to warm

fingers crossed

and stuff

the sink

with a handtowel

as the stopper

stopped long ago

as I take one of ten

of a pack

worn

and sink them into the water

and two of four

of a pack

and sink them

too

and

rub

the Dove

I wish organic

soap

beneath the trickle

and say

how wonderful

how divine

I have withstood time

I have taken

the necessities

of a woman in business

and parceled them to

and

within

a value pack

and have further

elongated

the value

beneath my tap

I have laid

the efforts of my days

against the cracked

tile of the tub

and

have thrown

in

upon

within the graying water

the rest that

keeps me whole

setting it

wringing

it

along the path

of my legs

my feet

that raise

me

each

day

Sitting on the edge of the universe

I sit

feet beneath me

crawled into

the depth of a chair

I sit

knowing

God

is somewhere

on the edge of my being

I falter

hanging on

fingers on the edge

wondering

how hard

I should hold on

I want

to send you a picture

a sketch

a charcoal

sketched against

off white

rough paper

to show you

what my words mean

but I lack the materials

and the time

in this moment

***

I sit on the edge of the universe

my faery feet

flying

into the foam of the ocean caps

I dip

my toes

the toes I sometimes

dip

dip

dip

I dip them in

those little things

I dip them in and out

do you see them now?

those five points

dipped in foam?

those happy

little

digits

sprayed against the

horizon of the sky

against the epicenter

of the unknown?

****

I sit

on the edge

of a moss covered rock

I dip

my toes

into the clear

clear

clear waters of a meandering stream

I watch what I think

are the

never moving rocks

the pebbles

watching the

water go by

I dip and dip again

****

My faery feet

I see them well

I never asked

I never told

just a little one

a wee one

they said

so

spry

so slight

when they sucked my breath

I didn’t

know how to say

no

Gratitude

There is never a moment

I do not feel

The fleeting joy

Of the smile of your face

The curves of your cheeks

The lift to your eyes

For whatever else

We have been born to

It is not the promise

Of an earthly tomorrow