I Have My Mama’s Hands

I have my mama’s hands.

Each little intricate vein running through, just as hers.

I have admired this for as long as I can remember.

We have sat them side by side, linked together by an ancestry of generations.

Both pairs having dug through many trials and tribulations

coming out scared, but still ready to fist forward and fight through another day

Even if that’s the only thing they can manage to do that day.

I have held these mirrored hands as a little girl simply walking across the street,

And I have held these hands to hers as I cried, broken hearted.

And now, I have held these hands until the blood was left only flowing through mine.

As the cool crisp air floats into season, I will wallow in the silence.

The silence that seeps in slowly as we each grow older.

A breeze that slowly runs across each and every wrinkle,

taking its time, getting to know each and every inch of the day’s trials that have been laid across our paths.

The chill across my skin makes each bend of the elbow or knee stiff like an un-oiled wheel.

But even with the feel of an old body lifting me out of bed in the morning,

I will yearn to watch each brightly colored leaf fall from each tree.

A rebirth of nature and a rebirth of the world.

A world that will inevitably go on.. circling in the galaxy as we, in our bubble, grieve the loss

of an impeccably compassionate, perfectly constructed, vibrant angel.

A second chance, over and over, as this planet bows with a humbleness hoping that

we will nurture and care for it once again.

And a second chance, over and over, for a rebirth of our own spirits.

This chill throughout my body reminds me that…… I. am. alive.

So at the end of each day, as the temperature drops, I will watch the sun go down with a

humble heart.

I will sit late into the night, appreciating the quiet and speaking my grateful heart into the universe.

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Fall, fall, take me to your leader.

Let me bow at their feet with thankfulness for the gift to see through and past my body’s pain, and this life’s

burdens,

straight to the beauty in the chill bumps.

Let me honor these hands, my mama’s hands, by giving them life.

Oh God, give me the chance to use these hands for good in the memory of the one who passed them on to me.

And even as I tremor, and even when I am at my lowest, let the beauty around me humble me….

And my mama’s hands.

Poetic Epiphany

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Not a soul in the world knows her pain,

Not a soul in the world hears her scream.

Alone is a word she is comforted by.

It’s a familiarity.

The shivers of the cold world can not be shaken.

And she doesn’t need the blanket of a lie repetitively told.

If the runaway train continues to run,

She will not chase the tracks.

And she will bury herself amongst the most

loneliest of poets.

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Candlelight for One

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It’s amazing when a hard, unexpected rain falls down, that that’s right when you have no umbrella. Life is very much like that. Family is very much like that. And most of all, love is very much like that.

In theory, most want love and family, friends and a social life, and great success in life. However, there are some of us out there that find it profoundly moot to follow the same path over and over expecting different results.

It’s absolutely exhausting trying so hard to complete a pattern in your life with a fruitful end. True colors always show, and not many are truly capable of being selfless over selfish, although there are a select few, I will even admit. And in this real world, well, that’s a definitely deal breaker, being on the weighted selfish side of the stomping.

So, here I sit, alone per usual. Obviously a little bitter, and maybe even borderline pouting, and not afraid at all of expressing it. Currently extremely doubtful of a crowd-filled future, and seeing clearly the value and stone coldness of truth. But also humbled by the experience.

I’ve turned all of the lights off in my house. I’m quite sure it’s for multiple reasons. One being that I am all but nearing jump off of the cliff of losing everything, and lights turned off equals less power being used on planet USA. [Insert the echoes of my grandfather’s voice scolding me to turn the lights off at 10, here.]

However, I would say the reason that takes precedence over all others would be the fact that here, alone in this house, I wanted only the glow of the candles I have lit. Or the topper lit up at the top of my undecorated Christmas tree. I can bare no more light than that on this bitter night. It makes me feel less small, less abandoned, less sad.

And now, take part in this pity party with me.

I have never experienced such a deafness in my small world, as those around you hearing your cries of sadness and projected fear, and merely turning their head as if there’s something God-awful in my teeth. But, I regress. I, probably more than anyone, know that there are some paths in your life that are roughly designed for one. And I wholly and wildly accept that.

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I also acknowledge that I’ve spent a huge majority of my life purposely pushing people away, needing isolation and enjoying being alone. But when you are sick, it’s different feeling. There is a complete difference in enjoying being alone, and being so very lonely. I realize that now more than ever. It’s humbling. A truly faith-sucking experience and not personally recommended by me for self-revelation.

I love everyone. But in another way, I have given up on everyone. I don’t expect them to understand. Because I never allowed them to, and that’s my own fault. They mean the world to me, in ways they couldn’t possibly understand. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I feel entirely let down, and lost on how to fix that. I would find it easier to go back in time and do it differently, rather than try and fix it now.

I guess, all I can really do is keep continuing to press on as I have. Remaining strong for the one person I have here looking to me to make sure everything stays ok. Even though, deep down, I don’t even know what that means anymore. I’m not truly angry or as bitter as I let on. I love everyone fully with my entire heart. And honestly, I know the trials of life can take us in 50 different directions. We get caught up in our own stuff, and sometimes, we forget that maybe there’s someone out there, very close to us, suffering, scared, and just needing to be told, “Hey, I am here, and I love you.” And, “You’re doing good.”

Well, I am here. And I love you. And you’re doing amazing. Whoever you are out there reading this….