Baby Mine, My Joy

"I can't, no I won't, make it through one more loveless bruise. You don't know what I've been through..."

"Joy"
March 11, 2012

It's 3 am
and I know I'm not awake
but for as many times
as I've lived this dream
it may as well be.
as Real as your tiny hands
on my face
as you sleep softly.
my dream can remember...
the way you felt so small on my chest
but so huge inside it.
Such a large chunk of my heart.
My broken heart.
How your baby lips
finding out how to smile at me
were the soothing balm
to my shattered reality.
When I slept,
you were there curled in the crook of my arm.
Your eyelashes long and fluttery to your baby dream.
I matched my breathing to yours
so I wouldn't wake you.
When you cried, so did I.
when you hurt, I hurt too.
I was your world, for the moment.
I sang you away into a better dream then I could give you.
I rocked you into the night,
and gave you the best hours and days of my life.
I gave you my life.
I was yours
but You weren't mine.
My lifeline
but hers.
It's ok that you won't remember,
 cause I do.
and I hold these memories like I held you.
Close and dear.
Holding on for dear life.
You're my Joy in the dark days.

Ruidoso

I wrote this a few weeks ago and just now remembered to post it.

2-20-12
I would live my life
Here at the feet of such
majesty and grace if I could.
Where beauty and power meet
in the snow covered arms
of the mountains.
More wonderful then even the
Heights around me,
is the Spirit inside me.
God, that can move such
Bigness
with a word.
could blow the entire mass
into the ocean with a
whisper.
The tree against my back,
the bare branches creak a little
in the winter wind.
I wonder if the
wood
on the bleeding back
of His Son
poked him.
If it creaked in the wind as he carried
my sin.
Cannot a sparrow weep for food,
or the flower bloom, wilt, love and die
without his notice?
Can my tears fall
like His blood did
and He not be moved?
does He not love me more,
love me higher,
love me stronger than the mountains
in my sky.
The wind and the waves obey Him,
the earth and the sky at His call.
and He loves me.
That's why I love mountains.

Dustmoon Revelation

3-7-12

The Dustmoon creates an aura of light
brightening the darkened corners
that hide remnants of memory.
pieces of broken mirror
waiting for something to reflect
and repeat.
chills run down my heart as the imiages return.
Some warm and shameful,
Cold and lonesome, the rest.
White, grey, with spots of blue sky peircing the welcome gloom.
Dreams edge tword Nightmares
ending in breathless screams
and insatable fright.
Sometimes it's not the mind photographs,
or the past creeping up behind me.
Sometimes its a simple absences.
Absence of arms.
Hands.
A heart beating in understanding.
 Someone I don't want to run from.
Someone who won't let me.
The darkness gets to me in that moment.
when I admit to the nothing around me
that I'm alone.
It's freezing arms wrap themselves around my lungs
and it starts all over again.
Tears building in my throat
filling my chest to bursting with emptyiness.
Mind grasping for the power to stop it,
Soul crying out to God for help,
Hands trying to hold myself together,
heart shattering in spite of best efforts on all fronts.
and all the while, willing or not,
that song is playing.
the words are better than a photo album
for all the memories they hold.
So this is what's been down there for so long...
the Dustmoon has brought it to light.