Truth in versions

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flamingos 2006

 

I dip pieces of me into the ink before writing to you. I struggle to peel off the layers, put them down on paper. Truth hangs off of me, heavy like stones strung on string and threaded through me. I am pulled and know these words you may never read before I am gone. I have conversations with you in my head, letters that I will never said, countless pages that I have written and torn out of books to throw away. Instead I sit perched at the window of your life, watching the world I cannot be part of. The words stuck inside of me like slivers of glass.

You said once that you never lie. You just didn’t always share all the information. Lying by omission. The truth in versions. We are all liars in the end, living complicated lives.

~

charge of the duckling

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Yesterday, I took my daughter to visit a petting zoo. While we were wandering around, feeding the goats, I noticed this little duckling making a beeline for me.  It was a funny and strange moment… why should a duckling be so interested in a chubby girl with a camera? Not sure, but it sure was cute.

wrap me up in you

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wrap me up in you
for a lasting moment
hold me close
and closer still
the sun is fading behind the pines
stars fill the endless sky
let the world fall away
let the noise stop
be here and remind me
what it means to love again

find me in the thin cracks
of broken sidewalks
where I missed turns
wandering on unfamiliar roads
lost in dreams unrealized
let the world fall away
let the noise stop
stay here and remind me
how to breathe again

love me in the silence
here and remind me
with your heartbeat
your soul, your song
it has been worth the wait
all of these years
to wrap me up in you
for one last time
let the world fall away
let the noise stop
let me love you
let me know
let me go

~

 

give and take

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A: There is a bin inside the door.

B: I told you I would get in. Full scholarship. Yes, at my brother’s place. His wife in the background talking, yes.

A: Did you hear me? Stop throwing your seeds on the floor.

B: Heading out for Chicago tomorrow and then to the coast for a few days. Maybe up to Canada; I haven’t decided.

A: I don’t care about your problems. Get the broom and start sweeping.

B: No, I will call you from the road. Just waiting for my brother to get back. He owes me some money.

A : Life is full of challenges, believe me.

B: I will talk to you later. Looks like a storm is rolling in across the lake. Ciao.

A: You have no idea what darkness is. Not really.

B: Will he be back home soon? I need to go.

A: Stop. I know you are scared and angry, but stop. I don’t want to hear about it any more.

B: Why did you slap me? My face is bleeding.

A: Here Kleenex. You are dripping everywhere.

B: Where is he? He should have been here by now. I need to go. This is my chance to start over. You can understand that can’t you?

A: He isn’t due home for hours.

B: Don’t try to kiss me. Leave me alone.

A: Come in and sit with me.

morning

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“Are you ok?” he asked. I stood on the gravel driveway looking for a spot to move my car to. Space was at a premium. We were just told in the office that the owner of the building was having the parking lot paved. The squirrel mafia ran in and out of the dumpsters. His voice rose softly over the hood of his car. I turned. He grinned at me  Although we had never met before, I recognized him.

“Yes, thank you. Trying to decide where to park my car.” I said. He laughed.

“Me too. Do you think we will be safe over there?” he gestured to the far side of the lot. I nodded.

“Yes, should be.” We climbed into our cars and drove over, parking side by side. He smile again as he locked the doors and walked over. He smelled of morning, fresh coffee and vanilla. A gust of wind ruffled his wavy, white hair, as he adjusted his glasses before reaching out to shake my hand.

“Nice to meet you.” He paused waiting for my name.  His hands were delicate and strong.

“Leigh” I said. “It is very nice to meet you too. I work for the Orchestra.” His eyes widened.

“In the office. I no longer play. I have only been here a few weeks ” I explained. We started to walk back towards the building. His seemed to bubble as he walked. Still smiling and light like the first notes of an aria.

“Ah I see. I just started working here again as well. Helping the Orchestra.” We reached the door and I held the door for him.

“After you Maestro.” I said. It wasn’t every day you have the chance to hold the door for Uri Mayer. He chuckled and insisted I step through first.

letter on the path

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Letter on the path

 

We took a well-worn dirt path into the park, instead of driving down the steep hill.  Purple and white phlox bloomed in the meadow around the first bend. Like paint spilling from an overturned bucket, the flowers rushed to the edge of the tree line and trickled through the dark tree trunks. I spotted the letter when the path turned again towards the park. It was wedged in a hollowed out tree. The girls ran ahead as I unfolded the paper. I read the words written in black ink.

Your eyes. Stars without beginning or end.

I love you.  

M.

I reread the note. A black squirrel ran across the path, chittering as he ran by me. A blue heron flew overhead. His wings rustled with each flap in the wind. I folded the paper and tucked it in my pocket. The words hung like dew on spider silk. I zipped the pocket shut and hurried to catch up with the others.

noise in the channel

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the Mississippi

 

Noise in the channel
Clouds in the sky
Storm on the horizon
Absence of why
I want you to sing
The song in my soul
But your eyes are wandering
My heart is larger than the smallest whole
What you do not see
Has nothing to do with me

Noise in the channel
The lazy and broken scream
Miss the beat my love
And fall to the wayside
I am lost in the melody
The life that I left behind
Don’t ask me to explain
I am the sky
And the rest only weather
Let me sit with the silence
The space in between
Even noise must breathe

Noise in the channel
Tell me please,
the half truths, the lies
you insist on sharing
let yourself believe your voice
is the one that matters
for all the anger and fear
the unwanted and left alone
until when you are stripped of all
and left only with your noise
tell me then what do you hear?

Noise in the channel
Let it be joyful
Let it walk the soul through
The rich fields touched by spring
Fly through the vast summer sky
Rest under Autumn’s bough
And sleep in the wing of winter
Let the noise of silence stir
The deepest part of your heart
Until all there is left is a motion
A song, a note, a melody
That we can all sing.
and love
and live
~

la fraser

craving silence

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Craving silence
I feel in your arms
Heart in the sea swell
Cradled
With a smile that follows the horizon line
I slip into the turning, lilting song
Drawn into the sky like weather

Life in a whisper
A teardrop
A sigh past the lips
returning
I lie in earth, freshly turned
Sinking to the roots
Wild flowers weave through fingers
I am impressed in curves
And smooth spaces
Like water over river stones
Until nothing remains

Fingers tipped
Lifted
Feathers to the wind
Silence grounds
The threads
Sewn through each part of me
I fly
~

grit wanders

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grit wanders
into lines and folds
of skin worn on white bones
polished glass
black hair
and faded green eyes
torn fingernails
from scratching at the surface
looking backwards
for life

somewhere the heart pedals
around corners and empty rooms
somewhere the heart flies
through treetops and budding leaves
somewhere the heart lives
untouched and mended

just not here

scrawled on walls
fragmented poems
words tipped from the ink
and dripping
do you notice the mirror as you slide by?
voices echo in absence and shadows
do you notice

body moves grit
life enters open wounds, forgotten
grace
however fleeting
until

no words or dreams
unearthed
reburied
woven into roots and debris
nothing remains

~

just one day

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blue

Just one day
To close my eyes and imagine
The sky beyond
Cloudless
Clear
Not just one day
I would fill my arms with them,
Hundreds
to string like pearls on
Wild grasses and flowers
Days touched with sunshine
And warm spring rain
Summer winds and morning dew
I would lay back
Resting my head
Until I passed
Into the night
~