to dream of love…

It’s ok to dream of love –

to need is not to fail,

to want is not a weakness.

So why do I think ill

of it?  Ill of me?

Why is it that longing

feels ungrateful?

Does needing make me

incomplete?

Why does seeking seem

so faulty

naughty, even greedy?

Does wanting it all

make me needy?

But its ok to dream of love…

 

Isn’t it?

 

Does dreaming of love

put one in conflict

with loving ones own self?

Conflict

with ones own mental health?

In seeking there is

every chance

of never finding

sweet romance,

yet is that enough

to never seek it?

Or an excuse

never to be weak

and open to the hurt

of being human?

What matters more-

the pedestal

of lonely and unbreakable

uninvaded shore?

Or the chance

of being wounded

in the search,

sullied in the conquest,

with the unknown possibilities

of victory,

the prize of

the unshakable… Love?

 

It’s ok to dream of love…

 

to lose is to participate

rather than like a

damsel wait

and wilt, and wither thin.

The capstone on the vault

she entered without fault

buried for eternity therein

“for fear of doing any sin

she failed to do at all.”

 

Let it not be said of me!  I will dream of love.

 

Land Drown

I rise from my sickbed today

to tell a sorry tale

of how the asthma children feel

when lungs threaten to fail.

The world begins to narrow

and the air begins to thin,

dry land turns into something like

a deep surfaceless swim.

Lips turn blue as the chest heaves

and slaves for every breath

hands curl and dive in pockets and bags

for drugs to stave off death.

PUFF squeezes in the mouth

a time or two (or four)

and if ten minutes pass like this

there will be need of more.

As the wheezing settles, water

and then a bio break

but all the while a-squat and shakin

like a Turkish earthquake!

The drugs will rattle teeth

and shake even your hair

but you thank God for another day

as the fog begins to clear.

When next you see a sufferer

give a thought to their distress

bruised, battle-weary but on fighting

for their next and future breaths!

A B****s Prayer

Father prepare me today

to deal with smaller minds

and people who neglect their brains

and think with their behinds.

I pray you give me wisdom

to keep my smart mouth shut

and be reminded as I go

that lofty words can cut.

Please help me to see

that always somewhere in Your plan

You’ve had a role for stupid folk

since the day that time began.

Guide me to understanding

its Your will that will prevail

and if it were left to my lesser wit

all of Your plans would fail.

Steer my thoughts to comprehend

earthly bright as I may be

all pales in comparison

to Your perfection and beauty.

Remind me that our enemy

loves a brainy beast

and uses more the smart than dumb

to herd prey to his feast.

Father prepare me today

to deal with smaller minds

and people who neglect their brains

and think with their behinds.

Wicked Little Wisp

Last night I had a dream

that has begun to haunt my day

a visit from a little wisp

with claim that she was here to stay.

The little wretch was cute

in the way small things can be

but the closer that you looked

the clearer you could see

that the little thing was darkness

and her wings were tattered skin

she smelled like burning evil

and her words were full of sin.

She flew around my fingers

and up around my face

saying “get used to me lass

because your life is my place.”

Try as I might to shake her

I couldn’t make myself free

but she flew up to my fighting shoulder

and stung me like a bee.

I slapped her and defied her

as her fluttering wings from hell

tore up the air around me

and rose a stormy spell.

I prayed God get me loose

from this awful little witch,

get her out of my head

and let me dream without a glitch.

Sleep would not return

and so I rising sat

and saw my dogs had gone to town

and pooped all over the mat.

I came downstairs and found

another awesome mess and more

of soap dribbled through a grocery bag

to puddle on the floor.

As I bent to clean the messes

my dog raised his leg again

and honest to goodness it took all of me

to not murder and skin him.

As I wiped and cleaned and corrected

the pain up in my shoulder

throbbed and ached and gave a sense

of muscles getting older.

But then it came to mind

that right in that spot I’d had

a fairy sting the night before

by the wisp that I’d made mad.

The morning rolled on forward

and other matters shown

to be broken, spilled or not quite right

as I plodded on alone.

When finally I bewildered sat

with coffee to a chair

I drew a line upon the day

and made it very clear.

“Little malevolent spirit

my life is not your home

but my day belongs to me

and to my Lord alone.

To save your rotten wings

I suggest you fly away

before he rises with the sun

and burns you into yesterday.”

My Sheets

Monday morning sunshine

calls me singing from my bed,

a million busy thoughts

fight for attention in my head,

the daunting tasks at hand

grow into mountains in my sight

but my sheets are gentle satin

and my pillows feather-light.

The week is full of battles

folks to lead and lives to save,

Goliaths gang up on

my inner David forcing brave.

The thought that fortifies as I

face down the righteous fight

is my sheets are gentle satin

and my pillows feather-light.

As Wednesday grows more bloody

and defeat feels very near,

the arguments grow louder

with defense and craven fear.

To just make it to sundown I

turn my cheek against my plight

for my sheets are gentle satin

and my pillows feather-light.

The tide begins to turn

as solutions bubble up,

energy swims to surface

as I drain my coffee cup.

I focus on the goal

with eyes squinting all my might

at my sheets of gentle satin

and my pillows feather-light.

Finally the week is ended

and war melts down with the sun.

Kicking back my soul reflects

upon the battles God has won.

Grace rains down in drops of beauty,

my heart rests and dreams take flight

in my sheets of gentle satin

and my pillows feather-light.