Time in a bottle

If time really were in a bottle, I would drink deeply.

I don’t always know who I am

But I’m me in this moment

So sound the alarms and ring the bells because I’m present

And maybe I’m the me I thought I was yesterday

Or maybe life is okay when it’s half-lived and the night is blocked by the sun

And life is great when the sun shines

But no one promised us a rose garden (quote the old author)

But life is greater when you know who you are and where you stand and when enough is enough or there’s light on the horizon, peaking.

I don’t back down! I never have and I don’t plan on changing.

So bring the dusk or the dawn but watch me rise! Because I always RISE!

Me

I think I was me once, when nothing else interrupted the light.

I could call out and hear the echo of tomorrow, regardless, the darkness that threatened.

But I think I forgot

What does it mean to hold a candle and illuminate the shadow?

Am I here in the midst?

Am I breathing?

I guess we will know tomorrow.

And even if we don’t, I’ll get up and start again

Because that’s what it means to fight!

The embrace of every day

The inbounding hope that fills the gap between dark and dawn

We get up and go again and hope the light can find us when we’ve lost our way.

So step forward, one tentative step at a time

And keep going

One foot, then another.

Tomorrow brings no promise of light and life but it’s what we have.

So push through the breech and find your strength dear friend.

Tomorrow is worth the fight!

Segmentation

I think I may live in segments. Moments between where the great is and where it was and who I am now and who I used to be.

Segmented arthropods or a life once lived draped in shadow. And I’m okay this way…maybe…

I stare at the moon.

I stare at the memory.

I stare at life.

And I’m breathing

Wondering what that means anymore.

But my voice is strong and so I stare and yell to the void

Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe not.

Time will tell.

In the Morning …Running with what you’ve got

So, my mornings are always morning before morning should be allowed

I’m not a morning person…working on this…

But in anticipation of tomorrow, I plan.

I pack lunchboxes and clean and lie clean clothes on racks and hooks, and find shoes lost by minions (small people I’m charged to raise)

But, unfortunately, sometimes I dread the day ahead.

I’m not proud of it.

And I think if His mercies new every morning and the blessing of parenthood and employment and a life well lived.

But in reality, I go to bed knowing my alarm will sound the horror bell of having to wake up when I want to sleep.

Still, there’s a blessing when the coffee and the day kick in.

When sunlight brings possibilities that I haven’t imagined.

So I ride before the sun and do it again and again.

This life doesn’t have to be brilliant or awesome in the light of day but it has to continue to bring meaning.

So today leads to tomorrow and every moment, even the mundane, leads to greatness.

Will I be remembered for the lunches I pack and the jokes I wrote in sharpie on ziplock? Probably not. But will I be remembered for my perseverance and strength? I hope so.

Wake up tomorrow and do it again.

Just go!

One foot in front of the next, in excellence. It’s all anyone can ask and it’s more than enough.

Two cents from the routine.

Two cents to manufacture a million. Just RUN!

Glorious

What makes glorious life?

When pen and plight, too numb, collide

What beauty permeates stone?

Till I, in He, resound alone.

We talk, so often of death and pain

Yet forget the living

And here I stand with arms, waiting for direction, aiming for the target I cannot see

Or maybe I can…

Or maybe I am hesitant to step, without seeing where my feet will land

Either way, pen in hand, write my story.

I’ll go

Confessions of a Narcissist’s Wife

I will never be myself again.

I will apologize for every statement.

Okay get it. I will walk on eggshells while the earth shatters.

I will stand alone beneath the weight of injustice.

I will take responsibility.

Nothing is anything apart from you so I will hide

And tomorrow might be better or not

And today is a drop in the bucket of eternity.

Because I can’t long for you anymore while you throw me under the bus.

But that’s life in the land of the living and the sun will rise and I will forgive and we will call it growth.

That’s just movement in the stagnant waters while the void calls for justice.

I will apologize.

I will find my own fault in your weakness.

I will stand alone.

I will bear the weight of the world while you cower.

Tomorrow, bring your anchor.

The embrace of more than time

When time stops do you feel it?

Is there a moment when everything is okay and the world is right and stands the test of time?

Or do we wait, with hunger, for another moment?

Maybe that’s the beauty.

Maybe the hunger fuels the fire for tomorrow.

I don’t know. I’m just you, reaching into the void, waiting for the voice of God to smile on my weakness.

Maybe clay cries out to potter longing for completion.

But the journey is worth the wait. So I’ll stand in the light, knowing the dawn is brighter.

And I wait because you’ve always met me there.

Nothing becomes something beautiful in your embrace. Sometimes it just takes a minute for me to catch up.

Dreamer…sleeping or awake?

I was once a dreamer of big dreams.

I still am

I once sat imagining all I could be.

I still do…sometimes.

And in the midst of who I was and who I am, I find this amazing dichotomy.

I’m not less than I was when the world was rose-colored.

I’ve faced giants no one saw coming.

But I’m here…

And I’m breathing.

I fight against non-existent clocks and existential realities until I’m numb and clocking in and clocking out.

But I am more.

I know it. Maybe you don’t.

Who plants the sun in its station?

Who holds the earth in orbit?

Who called me “more” when I was dust?

You are my audience and I clamor for applause while all you wanted was willingness.

So here I am.

Breath and bones in twilight.

Take my everything and make it meaningful.

Ghost Writing

I’m just a ghost figure in the corner watching my life walk by in shadow while I keep breathing.

Control is an illusion for the “other ones” on the outside calling the shots.

Faith is a bridge I’m building

Tomorrow is a dream worth living

So I breathe

So I call tomorrow a promise

Knowing is luxury

Trusting is strength

I’ll let go and watch my wax wings melt and maybe pull off a miracle before the fire and sea consume me.

Better yet, I’ll watch God work the miracle for me

Until fruition, I am free. Until tomorrow, there is now.

Watch as I split the sky and bring thunder!

Watch as His glory unfolds.

On Reminiscing

Some nights revolve around the past…

It’s not that it started out that way but it ends in reminiscence of days gone by and memories you treasure.

Is it good or bad?

I don’t know the answer.

Enlighten me, people of Earth.

When reminiscence leads to wonder about what could have been it can lead down a rabbit trail of “bad”.

You know, a rabbit trail, when the bunnies roam in random directions and you chase them to find the meaning?!?

Or maybe it can lead to the realization of what was and is…

Sometimes I don’t know if I’m qualified to proffer an opinion.

But tonight, in the noise of my mind and the chaos of surrounding serenades, I’m happy to revel in what was and what could be.

Maybe I’ve missed the mark of greatness. Maybe time is not my biggest fan. Maybe I’ve suffered beyond the point where suffering should stop. But hope…

Hope lives in the dream!

Hope is in tomorrow!

Yesterday can remind me of what, not only was, but can be.

Isn’t that worth the struggle?

The “fight” can be in the hands of the unseen. The “fight” can be in the next breath.

Dare me to dream!

I will wake and go for broke.

It’s who I am and I’m not changing now. I’m not about to give up or give in.

Will me this moment to conquer the world.

I’ll see you on the other side!