You thought I never noticed you

 

 

shallow focus photography of a woman

Photo by Tainá Bernard

 

You thought I never noticed you

in those hallowed halls of high school angst.

Like Breakfast Club we each played a part

and everyone said I would break your heart.

 

You thought I was a Golden lady with no scars.

You said my blue-gray eyes shined like silver stars.

Truthfully I thought no one really cared.

Only you could  see that  I was a little scared.

 

You were my best friend and always true.

I went to the parties and always looked for you.

You were too afraid to come my way

and then you faded black one day.

 

Years came and went till we met again.

We talked and laughed until the sun shined in.

We professed our love and gratitude out loud.

Friends to the end we made that vow.

 

Now I am old and you have crossed the pale.

I can see the halls of heaven prevail.

Nobody ever was or had a friend more true.

How wrong you were to think I never noticed you.

 

(this is dedicated to Tim C.)

 

 

 

In the Eyes of It All

photo of person covered with brown textile

Photo by Noelle Otto

 

I don’t know where you went when you left me.

I have to believe you were sure you had to leave.

People always seem to have to be, have to go, have to hear what someone else has said.

The Truth running away like a spool of thread.

Still, I remember it felt like drowning in a rip tide.

There is a sadness in the end, in the eyes of it all.

I am much the stronger for it but I don’t wait for your call.

Nothing about Love is passive…

purple flowers

Photo by Nadi Lindsay

 

Wisteria vines will grow on walls, over other plants  and  along the weathered splintered gray fence that is long forgotten. The vine of Wisteria is thick and knarled and strong…

The fragrance of the low hanging purple clumps of flowers permeated the bright spring day and it made her feel lightness in her heart that she had not experienced in a long while. She thought about how precious her memories of first love are. There in lies the treasure. It is in the pleasure and the pain…if you allow it,  first love leads to the Truth that we know nothing much of love.

She is older now and reflects back often on what she thought love was as a young woman or rather perhaps she was simply in love with what she thought love was. She loved but then she lived. In that living she learned that love is tough as nails. Love is knarled like the Wisteria vine. Love will grow over barriers and around obstacles still blooming and still fragrant. Love is having the strength to stay. Love is a wild and furious risk, a pouring out of all that one can from that cup and drink it. Love is rich and poor. Love is sickness and health. Love is a verb, an action word. Nothing about love is passive. Love cannot be manipulated. Love. Risks. Everything. The Holy God is Love’s name…ponder this, ponder Him…you will find Him because Love never quits and perfect Love cast out all fear and Love never ever fails.

 

 

 

Desert Place

 

 

person in desert

Photo by Joel Friend

 

 

When this young prodigal daughter wandered

It was not because You, O God changed in time. 

You O blessed Savior still sought the one and left the ninety-nine.

 

I could not outrun your Grace even in the valley of the shadow,

I kept seeing your face in my disgrace and sorrow.

You said, “I have already won the battle”

 

As I lay deserted there I heard you call me Friend. .

Dying within an inch of my life I thought you must be a dream

But you Lord whispered “everyone needs to learn, from a desert comes a stream.”

A Chat

pexels-photo-2079451

 

I think if you were here right now we’d sit and talk about the different shades of doubt.
You would smile at my gray hair and the way things are while you sit in your old easy char…

You wouldn’t like the new technology.
It’s like Alice through the Looking Glass and all the white knights are talking backwards.
You would say, “this too shall pass.”

I miss seeing you on a Sunday and the joy you always brought to me.
Your love for us was deep and fierce, the best of your heart is what I miss…

I think if you were here right now we’d sit and talk about how it use to be.
You’d smile and say, “it’ll be alright…” while you sit in your old easy char.

Emmet

green grass during sunset

Photo by Nathan Cowley

 

The daybreak drizzle has moved out to sea.

The dawning clouds are steel gray.

The wind is about 10 knots up from the Gulf Stream.

Nations have risen and fallen, two world wars, more political unrest, man has gone to the moon and the World Wide Web has come along, but nothing much has changed on this little wedge of the island.

The tide goes in and out.

The gulls and cranes still swoop and dive and the dolphin still dance. The beautiful gold sea oats continue to hold the sand dunes together…
But now you… have been born!

Your little smile, your hands and feet have changed everything.

I cannot smile without you.

There are very few words of wisdom I will give you as you grow up and let me into your world of sticks, and bugs, and rocks.

You will sleep the sleep of the blessed each night and when I get the chance I will tuck you in.

What I will do my grandson is love you. Love you unconditionally with all of my being and spirit.

Long after I am gone I will still watch over you and love you with a love that has no end.

The daybreak is clearer now, the sea breeze cleansing. The wars and internet have no meaning to me now.

The tide is a beautiful dance and all of God’s creatures perform just for you.

The sand dunes are for you to climb and my whole world is golden.

No time to give away

 

 

time lapse photography of waterfalls

Photo by James Wheeler 

Out of my head

No point in New lies

Not hindered by sorrow

Simply celebrate my life

 

Brilliance is this instant

Melting colors into day

Living every minute

With no time to give away

 

Sorrow bears a goodness

Merriment holds no shame

Colors intense and glorious

With no time to give away

 

Love Rushes In

white light forming heart on black surface

Photo by Johannes Plenio

 

The Chinese refer the human heart as the “Emperor” of all the body organs. As some of you know I spent the largest part of my nursing career as a Cardiac Nurse. In the care of the heart I was in my element and in the technical exploration of the heart even more so. I literally loved looking at hearts and being a very minuscule part of attempting to repair them. There is much that technology’s advancements have taught us in sustaining healthy heart function.  Did you know that over an average life span a human heart will beat without fail over forty million times? There is a wear and tear on such a faithful organ that works this hard and there are many physiological reasons the heart will wear out, malfunction, or fail.N

Takosubo Cardiomyopathy is a type of non-ischemic (a situation not caused by “restricted blood flow”) which is phenomenon in which a “temporary weakness of the heart muscle occurs.” In lay-people terms it is referred to as “broken heart syndrome.”  A true diagnosis stating the overwhelming loss, constant anxiety, and other emotional situations can lead to a “broken heart.”

In the matters of the heart I believe we have only two options. We try to control it and it still dies or we give it over to God and it really never can die. There is no middle ground.

It is a given that after forty billion beats a heart is going to finally come to a stop. I am of course speaking tongue in cheek here as I am speaking of the Spirit of a person, their heart that does not die.

The writer Charles Martin says it this way in his book Send Down the Rain.

“Love rushes in where others won’t.  Where bullet are flying.  Love stands between them. Love pours out, empties itself. It scours the evil wasteland, returns the pieces that were lost, and never counts the cost.”

 

I have always felt set apart

big waves under cloudy sky

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS

 

I stare out my window

Like a sea wife staring out the horizon

Time moving ever so slow

 

 

 

I have always felt set apart

Looking outside of dreams into the  indigo haze

Time capturing the beats of my heart

 

 

This is what faith is

The hope of what can’t always be seen

Time cannot define where he is

 

Home

people sitting on the edge of a cliff

Photo by Angelo Duranti

Her passion is tender.

Her pain is massive.

Her mind is lithe and quick.

Her body is no longer as swift.

 

Her temple once was a house of cards,

built by her birth, her fear, and her works.

Now she stands on the rock called Jesus

careful to follow him with her cross.

 

A new temple foundation built,

she is sure of this The Holy One.

He makes all things new with his Holy breath,

and will lead her in both life and death…

Home.