And lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies. (Psalms 27:11) And thou shalt bring in the table, and set in order the things that are to be set in order upon it; and thou shalt bring in the candlestick, and light the lamps thereof. (Exodus 40:4)
Nov 18, 1985
When in the valley of doubt and in the valley of pain
Reach out Lord and cleanse me again
When in the valley of woe
My faith is brought low but now I know
That you’ll wash me again.
Oh Lord I praise your holy name
and reach up to meet your hand
Because I know wherever I go
That you will be beside me
and I know that you’ll cleanse me again.
In this world of care no one meets you there
and it seems that you go it alone
In the world without hope you are lost to cope
seeking a way or a touch from a friend.
Look up and see the savior he’s waiting for you
to take a hold of his outstretched hand.
To lift you up into his arms and help you to stand.
There are No Words
I’ve been told.
there are No Words
to explain the pain
or the feel of rain
mixed with tears
on my cheeks.
left and right ,as if
they could be enough
to express the loss
No words will
measure the cost
of standing in
watching them fade away
puddles pushed left and right
as they go.
I find out that Nature compromises humans:
Gives us rods for black and white images,
and cones for color vision.
Human beings blessed with sight
keep their eyes closed.
Late night news on ABC says
Delta crashes killing 13.
The neighbor’s parrot squawks from his cage
while the sycamores gawk outside my
window like caught peeping toms.
I stare at the cracked ceiling tiles
wondering when the curled paint
will finally give up and fall in my face.
TV static mirrors the antique box fan in the window
sleep is stolen again
daybreak demands compliance.
It’s another day
Will you want to remember the beginning?
I’ll never forget your smiles
the touch of your embrace
all of the idiosyncrasies of being a mother
If only the times had been different,
and there had been another way
to change the decision ….
flawed parents kicked you out of the nest
long before you were ready to go,
so, you fly.
Birthday Song; September 1 and 5, and January 30
I baked your cake like I’ve always done
since you came. It’s tradition.
You always licked the beaters before there were
germs that forbade it.
We christened each layer with chocolate
Your fingers made sure none escaped
I still bake the cake and sing your song
that reminds me that tradition is not
to be taken lightly;
although the chocolate sneaks away
when I’m not watching now
without you here.
I baked your cake, tonight
three lit candles danced in tune.
I think about the giggles of chocolate glee,
the presents piled high around you,
and watch the lights fade as
paraffin puddles keep guard.
Advice on Joining the Human Race
Those in pain say welcome to this human race, but
don’t expect to be perfect, or do great things in this life.
Freedom and independence are rare commodities.
you have a choice between freedom and warmth
If you’re too shocked by the brilliance
of a delivery room welcome;
keep your eyes closed.
Have you ever thought babies cry too much when they
open their eyes for the first time?
Welcome to the human race
maybe you will be the one
who changes the direction.
If you’re lucky
Caretakers won’t destroy your youth.
I didn’t give up– I moved over.
Love crosses all boundaries.
It has no limits
It is abundant even when empty
I pray you are doing well.
I was falling into nothing; the sensation of falling
a fear that overtook me where I couldn’t breathe.
I thought I had it all together as I checked my
emotions at the door and wore the mask of normal.
Far from it, I’m afraid.
How do you fake being a childless mother?
Every child I saw, reminded me of what I had lost.
I decided to try to be with another’s child,
then, in the next moment, I hid away from all the joys
How will I cope with the new path in my journey?
Lord, please silence the screams in my head
as my soul cries out for the ones who gave
unconditional love and trust. They are in your hands.
When I pressed my nose against the glass
and looked at the other side
what it’d be like to dance like that.
Instead, I’m separated by a cold hard pane
that fogs up when I sigh.
Sometimes, I wish I could just break the glass; instead,
hear the applause
imagine the warmth on their faces
against the spotlights
imitate their grand plie`.
Michael the Intellectual
Michael always sits quietly
investigating the intricate
test pattern of a fly on his arm.
On my lap we contemplate the world
and all it’s injustices.
We agree that families should stay together.
We rock in the Boston rocker
until the night.
First Steps Apart
So, off they went to foster care,
I went to an empty house
families felt indifferent and helpless
Somewhere new parents
anticipated the joy of three children
were scared they wouldn’t be
family before Christmas,
and prayed for a miracle–
the three musketeers together,
that happened as God had planned.
But broken promises and tears
that fell when I couldn’t keep them,
consumed me as I studied their
faces on that last day.
I recognized Daddy’s China doll eyes
Innocent and hopeful, yet distant,
as they watched me fake
a trembling smile, and
imagined it was Mom’s gentle voice
that whispered the words
they said, goodbye.
We walk away from each other
I wait for one of us to turn around.
Grief: Such a Cliche`
After trying to go leaps
failing every time
I realized there’s only
one way to build a new life
one step at the time.
Even the greatest adventure
begins with a single step.
Grief’s so Cliche`
In a world where so many
hurt for even less than this.
We try to avoid the fire
that’s designed to burn out
all of the impurities and
cause us to be fit for the master’s use.
On the other side there’s
those who ridicule and
frown pushing unwelcomed
advice about what they would
do if they were you, and
all the time you see in the
distance the fire prepared for you
and make your way to it
one determined step
at the time.