Never Meant For Me

It would never be
You said to me
I do
Never meant for me
Just you

Today you promise
To love him forever
And a dream
A call
And an adventure began

It would never be
My friend--
But there the little
Flower girl's tulle
Caught all the little bugs
While she rolled in the dirt
And the bridesmaid held
A cicada ridden flowers
Through the entire ceremony

It would never be
We thought
As transatlantic pain
Found you
When I held my little one
In my hand
It would never be
I said

But here we are--
It would never be
We thought
But here I stand at
Your wedding
With the little babe
In me

What else do we think
Will never be?

Let it come,
Let it be.

Happy birthday, Ruru ❤

WJB

There are no words to say
There is no poetry
Of the day I lost my Heart
Your soul and mine
My soul and yours
My heart is forever--
you
My father, my hero
My soldier, my warrior
My breath, my guide
You slipped away for years
And my heart did too
My memory
My faith
My bitterness overwhelmed
Everything you gave me
Everything I am, from you
God gave us nothing in return
Or did he
For taking second
 required the giving first
And my heart finally gave out
And then you left me

Red Rose

The red from a bottle
Slowly grows out
And the bend of your back
Nearer the floor
 The laughter still keeps
Running through my head
As your gentle sweet mind
Slips away
No more stories of
The blue dress and high heels
Or recipes of cornbread
And dumplings
But your desperate searching
Through boxes and trays
Of your old jewellery
Looking to find what cannot be found
Replacing the immaculate style
And your old Avon lipstick
I will remember for us both, Granny.
I'll remember for us both, Lennie Rose.

Lost Psalm

The truth is, Lord
I need you
I'm lost
when I don't see your way
No grounding
When I have no
weight to my reasons
When I see there is no hope
Without a purpose
Without a reason for
My own design
I'm unwinding
I'm unknown
I'm the most unknowing
But maybe the peace
Of knowing You
May satisfy
That no one is in control
No one has the answers
But You
Find me
And bring me back
To You

Sitting in a library years later travelling toward i don't know what but some kind of caring for a living its a strange living, or i don't know the best word for strange there are baristas bringing coffee to tables priests having a muffin together and planning their day the librarian hands out computer pass i research and write an assignment on active third stage managagement but at 1524 yesterday i was handed a 36/40 from a cat 1 CS whose mother had noticed baby not moving as much as normal in the past two days the CTG was non reassuring. awful infact the emergency USS was where the code was called and the little exanguinated baby was pulled from its mothers womb within 15 mins and resusitated with blood and IPPV and this is my job. its strange hey. I'm crying on and off today whenever i think about it. not really a job. i don't know what it is. some kind of living. anyway Annie, i guess we come here to grieve, sometimes for lives we don't even know. so, I'm here.

Mundane

There is no poetry in the mundane and out of sleep awake asleep just a moment of reconciliation that all childhood dreams are gone and nothing but the rules of survival remain all the beauty days gone and nothing remains but the song and a clinical diagnosis of depression. And yet the days go on. And life goes on. And sadness slips away, like everything else every now and awhile. And smiles come and go. And there is healing. But the rawness never completely goes.

Maker/Taker

My heart aches for you

And it isn't going away

You'll be the saddest sad

And the happiest happy

In my life forever

Your first breath

Would have taken mine

Away forever

And I would have given you

My everything forever

But I know I'll never hear

Your heart beat again.

And the faith I had

Is melted into

A puddle of disbelief

In that truth that

Can never be understood

That faith can't protect me

Or the little one

I only held once

from the bitterness of loss

And the confusion

Of a Maker who Makes

But also Takes.

x