This perfectly summed up what I wanted to say today. Be strong and be the person you are. We all belong here.
Category Archives: poetry
The me that is me
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The sun peeks into my room at dawn,
and I greet it with a smile.
The morning brings the songs of life
and I do nothing but listen for a while.
I smile knowing that all is right
as I prepare to greet the day.
I feel like I am where I should be,
sadness and happiness equally weigh.
Every part of my life right now
is exactly what it should be.
I wouldn’t change a single thing
for these moments have brought me to me.
I have loved and lost and cried my tears,
my heart has been broken before.
But mending those breaks only fueled my fire,
left me stronger and wanting more.
I know what I want, I know what I deserve,
and that I will never second guess.
It may be elusive and difficult to get
but I will never settle for less.
The sun peeks into my room at dawn,
never knowing what it will see.
But I greet it every day with strength
and the confidence to believe in the me that is me.
More than just brush strokes on a piece of wood
Leave a commentI had forgotten
that freedom of imagination
was the best part of being a kid.
Time has marched on,
but memories of childhood still linger.
Tears were shed and wiped,
but the laughter still echoes
in the hallways of my mind.
A piece of wood,
a few hours of shared time by siblings
and memories captured
on a cedar shingle.
![IMG_1903[1]](https://polysyllabicprofundities.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/img_19031.jpg)
These are the memories
I never want to lose.
The days of innocence,
painted on wood,
frozen in time.
The year that went by in what feels like a month
2 CommentsA year ago today, my brother and I lost the most important woman in our lives. We released butterflies at her celebration of life and we see her wings in so many places. I wrote this poem for her. We miss you mom. xo
You left us in the early hours,
so peacefully your spirit would roam.
Through a gentle wind and the rising sun,
He called to take you home.
A ladder was built for your journey to light,
each rung meant to make you content.
While bathed in the glowing light of rebirth,
you gracefully began your ascent.
Loving arms awaited you there,
curling you into their embrace.
Heaven welcomed an angel back home,
rejoicing her love and her grace.
You leave behind your spirit and joy,
in those who loved you each day.
While our days will be saddened by the emptiness we feel,
we know we will see you someday.
We celebrate your rebirth and your newly found wings,
by releasing these spirits of transition.
And hope we can do honour to your memory
by carrying on your tradition.
My wish
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I wish, oh how I wish
that I could open up your heart.
I want to get to know you
but that’s the hardest part.
I know you from the outside,
your voice I recognize.
But the real you I’m looking for
is always in disguise.
Sometimes looking into your eyes
I can read what’s on your mind.
But then you turn, you look away,
afraid of what I’ll find.
I want to know what makes you tick,
what makes you run away.
I’d like to understand you,
there just seems no easy way.
My empty heart beats for you,
it wants us to be one.
It wants to heal the scars you bear,
to have the knots undone.
The seconds move, the hours wane,
and still you turn from me.
Still I wait, I keep you close,
awaiting what may be.
~~
Finding the hidden beauty
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The sun may be rising
behind a curtain of clouds,
but it is still grabbing onto the horizon
and pulling itself into our morning sky.
The beauty may be hidden,
the stunning colors may be invisible,
but the sounds of a new day
echo what we cannot see.
Life begins anew as the sun comes up.
It rises regardless of any obstacles
and we can still feel its warmth.
Its light through the clouds is proof that a new day has dawned.
Even though it may not touch our skin,
we know that holds a place in our day.
And though we may not be able to see it,
we have faith that its hidden beauty is there,
waiting for that chance to peek through the clouds
and shine on us again.
~
Two Hearts
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Two hearts met again in heaven,
time and distance
could only delay their reunion.
Although they vowed to continue
on a journey to find love,
they only found the truest version
when their hearts found each other again.
Through spiritual realms,
their hearts still only recognized the other,
the one they had known,
the one they had missed,
the one they were meant to love.
Two hearts met again in Heaven,
and those two hearts,
are destined to meet
in each lifetime.
~~
Happy Valentine’s Day Mom and Dad
When our hearts finally meet
8 CommentsI can spend hours gazing into your eyes,
even though you may not even exist.
I can feel the lingering trail of your fingers,
slowly caressing my cheeks,
but your hands are invisible.
Your words fall on my ears,
like a soft, warm rain in July,
and yet they are only the whispers of the wind.
These things are promises of you,
ethereal harbingers of a time that may come.
I can’t get the thought of you out of my head,
perhaps because you are supposed to be there.
You are the dream I keep dreaming,
the ghost that haunts my subconscious.
When we are brought together,
whether in this lifetime or another,
two souls will appreciate their journey,
because no distance can keep us apart.
When our hearts finally meet,
they will speak a language,
that they are only meant to speak to each other.
~~
Your biggest obstacle
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Take a moment to breathe.
Close your eyes and inhale deeply.
Let the scents of life permeate your brain,
and then move forward.
Stop building walls that impede you from progress.
Stop creating lingering shadows
by standing in your own sunlight.
Get out of your own way.
Life wants to you win.
Only you can choose how you play the game.
Ignore the things that threaten to hold you,
to keep you from where you want to go.
Don’t be the one thing
that keeps you from your dreams,
that keeps you from living
the life that is meant to be yours.
~~
Getting the lead out
16 CommentsThe Daily Prompt had me thinking again this morning. This is what it had to say – “When was the last time you wrote something substantive — a letter, a story, a journal entry, etc. — by hand? Could you ever imagine returning to a pre-keyboard era?”
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I vaguely remember the pre-keyboard era. Either that, or I am trying to block it out because I do remember it and it makes me feel somewhat vintage. I was the girl who loved to write letters to pen pals, write silly love poems, short stories and crazy plays that could only be created by an 8-year-old mind and acted out by animal puppets.
I would spend hours printing and practicing my ‘cursive’ writing. (that word plays heavily in my vocabulary these days, but with an alternate suffix and a very dissimilar meaning!) I loved to write so much that my wonderful penmanship turned into an obsession with calligraphy. My doodles in high school were never flowers or hearts, but intricately designed versions of the alphabet. There was something so satisfying about being able to create that type of flare with my own hand.
Now the world is so different. Millions of fonts can be downloaded with the touch of a button on the keyboard and all of that creativity I used to enjoy has been replaced by technology. I miss the excitement of buying new ink for my calligraphy pen or having to buy new pencils because I had spent so much time writing that they had all been worn down to little nubs of wood and lead.
Although I began writing my novel in longhand, the novelty wore off when I realized how much faster I could record the ideas on ‘paper’ by using a keyboard. I do miss the days of the natural flow of ideas from brain to pen or pencil and didn’t have to tune out the incessant clacking of the keys. Oh, how we suffer now for our arts. 😉
polysyllabic profundities 