Creep Into Fall

Can you hear the silence of the last leaves falling? If the wind blows a certain way, I start feeling desperate that I will miss the last one fall. I feel something watching that happen. It’s the one time a year where I don’t feel so small in this world. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Before this world aged me, I used to love putting my boots on and going out to crunch every single acorn and leaf. The sound awakened something in me that is closest I have ever come to true joy. Now, I just stare at them. Yesterday, I was driving down the road with the window down and one actually fell and came in the window and hit me in the side of the head so hard, that it sent a shock through my head and caused my ear to ring. I guess even the acorns have turned on me. And it didn’t help this 2 week headache I am carrying.

The kid in me is gone. Is this how it happens to every adult? I always promised myself that I would never let that happen to me. My goofiness and kid-like nature was the thing that was a part of me. Making people laugh was a genuine part of my spirit. However, my spirit is ghost-like now and it really is true that the people that are the goofiest and who make everyone else laugh and happy, are the ones who are suffering the most.

The air is crisp and and I sit at night and wonder to myself about where all the creatures and critters have gone. Where do they go to cozy up during the falling of fall? And the next thing I wonder is if I can go there too? I mean just really listen at night. Not a peep. Just the quiet of the night and I like to imagine that every single creature is deep in a hole with the greatest fire going. They are roasting marshmallows and laughing with their fellow creatures, making plans for next spring and summer. Hashing out territories like a town hall meeting.

Every so often, the sun peeks through the clouds as if the sky is also in talks with the wind. They weigh their time out perfectly so it flows like a beautiful painting. And then at the end of the day, the sun tips its hat to the moon as they pass in the horizon and another day is done. They work in such unison. But people….people can’t seem to manage that. Imagine the beauty that would be if they could. Still, I just stare at the beauty that is the completion of another successful day that nature offered me. Front row seats to the most gorgeous display I have ever witnessed.

Nighttime is even more beautiful. There are creatures that come out and take the night-watch. They are the sires that rule the night, hunting, continuing on life’s plan keeping an exact rule into this great big world. If you listen closely, you can hear the mama coyotes call out to their young at night, and then listen further and you’ll hear all the babies barking back. You will hear that until at last, they are together again, running the same path in the night. Everything flows so smoothly and it’s kismet.

Yet, here we sit, enjoying it and feeling the most somber things this world can offer. How often we take advantage of the healing all around us. Creatures who don’t slow down just because the world is hunting them. They just keep grazing and hope that another day is offered up to them. We are selfish creatures. The most selfish on the planet. Because no matter the beauty around us, we stop dead in our tracks with heartbreak and trials. We let sadness and hopelessness drag us down at the drop of the first leaf. We are not deserving of the top of the food chain. We deserve to be hunted one by one as something else’s dinner.

We chop the tree down that offers us oxygen. We eat the meat that grazes our lands. We spray poison in place of the creature that may very well eat the critter or plant that will poison us.

This Earth is spinning backwards. And that is why we somehow ended up on top. That has to be why. Maybe the orbit can change and knock about and we can finally spin the way we deserve. These leaves fall around me, and I soak the cold into my very bones. I try not to wither with them. I want to freeze them in place like a permanent resin in nature so that I can savor the moment that I realized that I don’t just feel small, I am small. After all, there’s a great big world out there that doesn’t care about my broken heart. It doesn’t care about the desperate ways I am clinging on to anything that can show me glory. That can show me grace. I am not sufficient enough to show it to myself.

So crunch, crunch, crunch on the acorn

and grab onto the last of the thorns

Make eye contact with the deer through the brush

And stay still so they don’t scatter in a rush

Sit with the moon at night in the bone-chilling cold

And embrace ever shiver as each day I grow old

Run with the wolves hoping instead of being a meal

We could join forces and strike a mother-nature deal

I’ll strip naked and grow fur

Run with the best of them, leave this human form in the blur

Roll around under the night sky

The moon will recharge me and dry the tears that fall from just the one eye

I’ll howl and howl until I am healed from this pain

And the trees will provide me shelter when at last here comes the cold rain

I will lay down one last time, as the sun it begins to rise

As the life before me and behind me, all at once, finally dies…..

I Leave You With Everything and Nothing

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I feel as though there are a lot of forms of heartbreak one can feel in their time on this Earth. And I feel that way rather a life last 100 years, or if it’s cut short right in its prime. Some experience every form of it. And those are the people that hold the most truth and strength. However, unresolved, those are also the people that go on to cause great suffering around them. And on the opposite end, there are those who have been through each heartache, did the work to heal, and allow themselves to give fully again to experience the fullness of something. And if they ever cross paths with the first version and connect in absolute, it can be disastrous.

This world can hold so much sadness. However, one of the saddest to witness or experience, especially close to home, is to witness and/or experience someone that is so much of a dreamer, that they can no longer see clearly.

I flip back through notes, years’ worth, even one as recent as my very dark birthday. He spoke of hoping and praying to see and experience all of the adventures that were being written about amongst us. It makes me feel sorry for him reading it now. Because the secret part that I could always see and held knowledge of was the blissful fact that writing down those adventurous plans, were always part of the adventure.

Each and every word penned down, a grin on the face; those poetic verbiages, were part of the greatest adventure. And in that sense, knowing now, he missed them all. He missed our greatest adventures.

While he was dreaming of other lives, other adventures, even with other people, here I sat, penning down adventures of a lifetime. Bringing them to life, I penned down a manifesto. I was living every moment of bliss we were building and had built. Both by living them, and by poetic penmanship. I sat there fulfilled. You? Sad that one could miss every single one daydreaming of something better.

When enough isn’t enough, we miss the best parts of our lives.

And now? Well now, I grow old content and fulfilled. Because adventures, I have lived them. The greatest ones.

I also get to be the saddest. Because for years, I thought I was living out these adventures with the greatest of all soulmates. And now, I am slammed with a realization that I travelled miles and mountains with a ghost. A phantom man ran his hands through my hair. A phantom shivered up my spine as he shook my world.

I flew in the clouds as I hallucinated the greatest love of all time.

And you?

I feel pain for your soul. We get one life gifted to us by mother nature’s womb. As I grow content in the gray that forms in my sweet and worn scalp, you wrinkle in regret. Too much time living in your own needs of protection have robbed you and cost you all of the incredible journeys that were right in front of you.

They weren’t enough. For you. And now, they have come to pass and haunt you. Fantasy smoke has cleared, and bones aren’t as sturdy as they once were. Thrown aside when not benefiting you, all of the things and people left in your wake dust off and come to view you like a museum piece as they live on.

And when and if this ends, I will leave fulfilled. Because heaven knows, I lived every single second of every single one of the greatest journeys of my life.

But you…. What will you leave with?

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.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Hug Me Mama

Hold me Mama,

I can’t hide anymore.

I’m scared and alone,

And my whole body’s sore.

Hug me tight,

I need every ounce of love and care,

Even though in the past I didn’t let you.

I’m saying out loud, it’s different now,

And I need all that you can spare.

Can I be little, just once more?

And let you brush my hair?

Let’s go to one more yard sale,

Drive up to a lookout and just stare.

Forgetting for even a moment,

The days ahead that will take up the room.

And all of the sadness, and most of all,

the darkness and gloom.

Hold me Mama.

I need you to see,

How beautiful I think you are,

And just how much you mean to me.

I forgive you Mama.

Can you forgive me?

For not seeing the sadness,

And the way you’ve grown weak in your knees?

Can you tell me you believe in me?

And I made you full of pride?

Even though I’ve accomplished nothing,

And couldn’t even make it as a bride?

Can you tell me stories of the times things were good?

Or tell me what’s gonna happen, if things don’t turn out the way they should?

Hug me Mama.

I need something, anything today.

Before the days slip away from us,

And all hope has gone array.

I love you Mama.

Sick or not, it will always ring true.

Even when I’m sad,

And tears stream down my baby blues.

I’m here Mama.

Still here, writing these words.

Struggling to drive to the store, and trying to focus,

As I take these sharp curves.

I just smiled and spit my drink Mama,

Thinking of all the times I’ve pranked you.

And how wrecked your nerves must be by now when I’m around,

Thinking I’m always near the corner,

Jumping out with airhorns, trying to get a rise or two.

I hope you’re well Mama.

I’m thinking of you today.

I love you Mama,

In every form, always and forever,

Yesterday and today.