Irreverent Eloquence

 Let me remind you that it was I that chose You no Fate lured me near  It was my web you wandered into In my trap you were ensnared Let me remind you I let You love Me gave you all the puzzle pieces "the whole picture" to deceive Let me remind you You were a means to an end A stone on which to step Minor character in the story I spin Let me remind you lest you start to believe  that you had the Choice, that You could ever Leave Let me remind you So I don't forget I chose incorrectly and have to live with that regret

 be soft and pliable Flexible, kind stand firm, Strong  but Capable         of great weakness, fair in body and Fawn in heart, never a feint.  be enough, Just     Are you ever Enough?  no questions, Fight     have no depth   be a Mystery          entirely Dynamic, multi-dimensional Until you lie flat.    be filled, content      You have value. Not as a dispensary, only Receptacle.    

  When you were young and headstrong, confident and decisive, you could fight me and never relent. Flippant decisions, just refuse to compromise, easily filled me with instant regret.  I didn't learn quickly, could not see inimitable you, thought I could mold and hold you, just to my will, bent.  Small yet too strong, the will of a woman child sized, your brilliance too often caught me by surprise.  My planning fell to pieces when I gave you the choices, predicting that I would easily win.  I watched your thoughts calculate all the options, then choose, aware of consequences and red faced with chagrin.  I had given permission, a misstep on my part, though I knew the game play and rules, I misunderstood how you would begin.  And you followed through, step by step, having committed to your plan, I was flummoxed and floundered in place.  I felt beaten, and lost, embarrassed and insecure, wanting to be angry as I watched your little face. 

 How do I tell you that you are not enough; knowing I should not be so cruel? How to say the thoughts piling up, as I push you away,  when despite my enforced distance, you stay? I see in the mirror the faces that play, the words forming and smirking, "Who's the fool?"  

 "Lay it down", just tell me, the load so heavy and constant.  "Set it aside", say it simply, "take the rest."  Permission granted and hand extended, a sigh so deep and unexpected,  I only want a moment, not help, to feel my best.  Don't do it for me, I am capable.  Don't shoulder my work, I want the burden.  Don't deprive my life of purpose and all my drive.  Don't diminish my effort, I enjoy the struggle.  Don't mistake my fatigue for overwhelm.  Working the list helps me to survive.  Nothing to need, I have it all, energy and self reliance.  A question of want, frustration builds and raises ire.  Decisions stacking, days on wash and repeat,  Maybe someone to hold me and care is my desire. 

to Choose a Life Basic  Simple Complicated Stressed Defined Rote Mundane Exhilarating Exhausting Rich Full Flourishing Relaxing Refined What's mine?

I thought I could be ready. To 'cross that bridge' To 'weather that storm' Enough time has passed, My fill of heartache endured, Now a new love could form.  Hesitant, unsteady, the path so unsure,  Cautious and tempered in each intimation. Awareness creeps in, a chill to the core, A silent heart denies love's formation.  The want of a life,  Return to before, is no longer the desired destination.  The "should be", the rote,  Patterned choices in my past, now a questionable proclamation. "You are naive and unprepared." "You have no need to explore." "Stop here," my mind stalls.  That bridge will have to wait,  Would I survive another storm?  I back away as uncertainty calls. 

it is the end of the night at the start of the week w ith a list so long it is still incomplete seasons in flux, early plans in the works years in advance, cluttered thoughts in clustered bursts.  turn the engine to off though the music plays on trapped in time, lost in mind  stay still for one more song     lovely lights beckon, you are home, please come in.                                                                                              I  do know what is waiting, just not where to begin  then the song is over and the silence starts  and the weight of the life descends on my heart how long shall i wait? how long to delay?              minu...

  the days so short and dark too quickly the chill and wind, cut and dry to capture and hold any warmth is quite tricky layers on waiting for snow to fly thin rays through the day bring no reprieve, no reply, for the black and silent night  hope for all the glittering, glowing, white, warm, and knowing, make our home full of winter light

          We got away this weekend, the kids and I, just across the state line to Wisconsin for a couple of days in the sunshine. It's a short enough drive with diversions of all types, and we have a few very budget friendly options that fill our time. This trip we shared a hotel room and with two nights of togetherness and quiet, our daytime needed space to stretch our legs and run free.  Witches Gulch was calling to me and after twenty minutes of driving and navigating, I thought we had found the trail to get there. The littlest one had fallen asleep in the last few minutes on the road and I spent some time cajoling him to wakefulness and then played some nature games to boost the mood.           I don't know if there is a better place to be than wandering in the wilderness with my people. One can start a song and the others join in, "can't go over it, can't go through it, gotta go under it." And then we are all challeng...

          It was a long day today. I took a drive after dark for a moment to myself. I am blessed that the kids hold space for me. Home is quiet when I return, with the windows closed, most of the lights already turned out, everyone settled in bed. deep breath, silently 'hello the house'.                                                                                I peek in and see the youngest, asleep in his bed mid-story.    tight smile, shake head. I climb the narrow stairs to wish goodnight to the oldest that I am certain is still awake. White noise of the ocean plays while fans try to move the stuffy air. A curtain of fairy lights fade and brighten to the waves of sound.  raised eyebrows and bite the lip....

The cast iron pans pile up in the sink Left side, They were rusted already don't worry. Weeks they have sat; "I will wash them," I think And yet still they wait and I tarry.  Papers are jumbled in cardboard and sacks Dining table, on top and below, Months of collecting in cluttered array...  "I will sort them," I mutter as I walk away,  carrying baskets of clean clothes as I go. It is chaos and not, living here in this house.  It is messy and yet organized.  It is loud and intense and I'm not qualified most days,  but I look on with pride.