I was in this world,

before the 'self' awoke.

I was in this world,

manifest in everything.

though I did not pester

the course of the living,

nor hold a breath of air, 

I was in this world.

oddly enough, if I gaze

at a higher level, or

deep in profundities

of creation, and if I 

consider hard and true

a distance, I clearly see

transcendence...

a womb from which

my form took shape,

I see myself budding out

like leaves from a branch

I was wind before 

I became a word, 

a word before a seed, 

a seed before a pupa,

a pupa before an infant.

I was in this world, 

way before I drew 

the first breath...

This is for those of you who feel like giving up. Don't worry...you'll be fine!

I know it's hard for you to breathe

I know your hurtful wounds are deep

I know you want to cry out loud

Hoping one day your parents will be proud.

I know your sadness has no end

I know your scars are not pretend

I know your thoughts on suicide

But trust me, one day you'll be alright.

Now, I know your friends have betrayed you

I know you're lost, afraid of people, afraid of you

I know you're trying but it's just too hard

I know you're on the verge of giving up

I know your scared of the dark

I know your waiting for your spark

I know you're lonely, I feel your pain

But darling, there isn't just sunlight, there's also rain.

I know you're worried about your future

I know you're a timid little creature

I know your love life is a big mess

But I know you'll grow up to be the best.

So embrace the ups as well as the downs

Feel it run deep into your veins

I know you want to cross the line

Don't give up darling, you'll be fine.

***********************************

Must you see something

with your eyes to know that it is real, or can you listen to the whispers of your heart, when it tells you to believe?

Have you ever been all alone and felt someone's hand touch yours?

Has the sound of a stranger's voice ever taken your mind back to a memory of a time and place, where you have never been before?

Have you ever held the hand of a friend, in great pain, wished that pain into your own body and felt it come?

Can you see me when I will myself into your dreams?

Is your heart like mine?

When you look up into the night's sky, can you see the wolf in the moon?

The wolf all alone, howling out a cry for his mates return.

Are the lights in the dark sky, just stars, created for our delight?

Can't you see that they are lanterns, of hope, from far off worlds?

When the wind blows in your face, can you feel his fingers, playfully tossing your hair and tugging at your clothes, begging you to join his game?

When that wind has whipped the clouds into rows of tight round balls, can you see the under scales of a dragon?

A dragon lost from her world of magic, flying low over our world, in search of escape.

Can you tell that the trees standing beside your gate are sentinels, dutifully guarding your path, keeping you safe?

When you see two trees growing together in a meadow, do you imagine the dance of two lovers?

Lovers with their bodies intertwining, becoming one.

Can you smell the sunshine?

Is your heart like mine?

Have you ever been so alone that you were sure tomorrow would never come?

Have you ever been so busy that suddenly yesterday is last year?

Does the sound of a baby crying make you pray for peace?

Peace for all the babies, everywhere.

Have you ever loved so deeply you felt as though you could fly?

Have you ever lost so much you were sure that you could not take another breath?

Can you look into your lover's eyes and see her soul, or is her beauty all that you can see?

Have you ever broken someones heart and felt your own heart bleed?

Can you hear my voice in these words?

Is your heart like mine ?

Once upon a field of snow

a babe was put to breast;

his mother’s sparkling eyes aglow

with love, she did impress

his love for her so deep and true

that every ounce of his soul knew

     his love for her.

     His love for her

waxed stronger daily as he grew.

Once upon a field of snow

a young man passed the test;

he earned the right to be her beau,

with passion he’d invest

his love for her, and thus he’d woo

his future bride; so fierce and true

     his love for her.

     His love for her

gave his heart wings, with which they flew.

Once upon a field of snow

a heart was laid to rest;

his soul mate, he had watched her go,

his tear-filled eyes confessed

his love for her, so strong and true.

His future, shaded gray and blue

     his love for her.

     His love for her

would somehow help him see it through.

(c) 2017 - dustygrein

** Note: This form is called a trijan refrain, and is one of my favorite poetic forms to work in. The triple stanza structure lends itself well to story arcs that encompass lifetimes.

And I shall find you

Tucked inside

Of those most private of moments

You keep

Only for yourself

Hidden

Yet waiting

Just waiting to be found

You've left clues

Again

A map

As you busy yourself

In preparation

Ironing out your cresses

Mending the frays

Patching the worn

Translucent fabrics

Reinforcing clasps

That have been weakened

Twisted and deformed by

Holding on

To more than you were meant

Your hope

The busyness of your hands

Will hedge

The loneliness of your heart

So you're mindful to leave

The bits of thread and loose buttons

That have fallen

And the crumbs

A trail

And your voice

As it hums between bursts of song

Singing

"Come home, come home. You've been gone too long"

     The baby wouldn’t stop crying.

     “Why does it do that?” Evelyn asked Mama. “Why doesn’t it ever shut up?”

     “Now, now Evy, don’t talk like that. You know I don’t approve of that kind of language. And by the way, you refer to the baby as he, not it.”

     Evelyn could care less what it was called; all she knew was that it was just one more noise-making annoyance in her life. As if the numerous animal Noisemakers they owned weren’t enough--now the newest, loudest, most irritating one lived inside.

     Evelyn watched as Mama tried to shove the bottle in the baby’s mouth again, but it kept crying. It was one of those uncontrollable, never-ending sobs, more angry than sad.

     Evelyn felt pressure building in her ears and in her brain. She was sure her head would explode if she didn’t get out of the house away from the Noisemaker, and fast.

     Evelyn headed for the kitchen and grabbed her backpack which hung on the wall. She bolted out the back door before Mama even knew she was gone. Not that she ever asked. Mama didn’t care.

     Evelyn walked through the back yard, past the old barn, and followed the semi-worn path through the high grass. The land her family owned extended for acres beyond the farmhouse in every direction. The seven year old girl knew every inch of the property: where the best trees to climb were; where the sweetest strawberries could be picked; where the darkest, most secret hiding places were. One time Mama called the town police because Evelyn had found such a great place to hide that she refused to come out, no matter how many times Mama called her name. That night Papa used his belt on her, explaining that hide-and-seek was not a game for one person.

     After walking for half an hour, Evelyn arrived at her destination: the pond at the very back of their property. She stepped to the water's edge and peered into the murkiness. It smelled bad. Flies swarmed over the surface, which reminded her of seagulls diving into the ocean in search of dinner. She saw that on a television show once.

     Evelyn dropped her backpack on the ground and circled the pond until she found a large fallen branch. She picked it up and returned to the spot where the flies hovered. Slowly, the girl submerged the stick as far as it would go, then started to stir like a witch over a cauldron. The water was opaque, swirling with sediment. It wasn’t long before a tuft of orange and white fur clinging to shredded meat and bone rose to the top.

     It was the feral cat, the Noisemaker that used to hang around the farmhouse--the one that wouldn’t stop mewing.

     Good. It was still here.

@RubyPond

Life is not static.

I never was

anything once.

I moved, I melted,

metamorphosed,

changed course,

ran into storms.

I learned, I loved,

I was battered

and bruised.

How could I write

message to person

I once was

when I never, ever

stayed in one place?