12-03-93

Death holds us together
One two three
Songs of instrumental melody
Side by side you and me
Could we have wed at the cemetery gate?
Could we have fulfilled our vows?
Wearing black and sighing in sadness
As souls of consciousness, can we be together now?
I thought I’d die the day we met
My head is bursting in migraine
I thought I’d kill you in bed
But now I’m alone and feeling only pain
Funerals are pretty when it’s fleeting voyeurism
Could I say I’m sorry and bring you back from the grave
A sleepy murderess dreams sad and sweet
I pray to God to pave the way and ask that I be saved

04-04-94

A kiss

Awaited, yes

Daisy chains link bated breath

Wandering two search through the weeds

Pass at length the past’s sown seeds

Quiet moment beneath the trees

Evening quotient obtained with ease

A kiss

Yet seconds passed my lips

Lakeside bliss

Wondering two is it really this?

Pass the past freely to a welcoming abyss

Twilight comes and takes that kiss

Towards tomorrow’s door for us to reminisce

A kiss

Simple pleasure

Childhood friendship transformed to treasure

Freedom

So glad to be living a life of freedom. There are definitely things I don’t like about our government, but I wouldn’t want to live in any other country. Last night, as Petal was falling asleep, she asked, “What’s that?” about the firecrackers going off in the neighborhood. I  explained about the fourth of July and how people celebrate, hoping she would easily get to sleep, even with the noise. Today we talked to her about independence, and what that means to us as Americans. I hope to guide her, and Eden, in the knowledge of how blessed we are here in the United States of America. I know I am blessed, and thank God for what we have here. I cannot imagine my children going to sleep to the sounds of fighting jets or bombs or gunshot (though that can’t be completely ruled out as a possibility). At least I feel safe here in my home. With John Mark as my someone to lean on, share with, and be my support here, and God and His son whom I can lean on, share with, and gives me support spiritually here and in Heaven, I feel so lucky.

My kind of life…

I wonder sometimes if I had any life to choose what would it be? Giving this some thought I have decided this, I want to live the life I have now, it is my kind of life. I love my husband and children. I have a home of my own. I am my own boss, being a homemaker and stay at home mom. Sure, more money would be sweet, I wouldn’t mind weighing a bit less, and I wish I was more patient, but all in all I think I am living the life God intended me to. And truly, I wouldn’t want it any other way. So, what to do with the wonderful life I have? I want to improve myself while being in service to God and others. I want to complain less and give more. My father used to say that work is a prayer and a blessing. My mother has worked hard in the service of others (mainly her nine children!) all her life, and she is about the calmest, most centered and peaceful person I know. I would like to emulate her in this. I do not mean to be a martyr, but what do I need with shopping for clothes or extra stuff? What do I need with all the many time suckers in this modern life that take away from the really important work at hand. Caring for my family is important. Washing dishes is important. Changing diapers is important. Folding laundry is important. Sometimes I am tired of this work, and would love to just take a nap. Oh well. There’s the baby crying. That’s ok, because also, loving God is important. Luckily, I can do that all day long while I do the other stuff, too. It is my kind of life and it makes me happy.

07-10-87

In the Winter Garden

Little Heyla sleeps

While all the nymphs around him

Can do naught but weep

And dreaming to and fro

Heyla steps outside

Walking down a little path

Through a door that’s open wide

Passing over fields of flowers

a lush and dark green wood

Heyla awakens from his slumber

By a white stone statue he stood

I’m lost! he thought

As he quickly turned around

To see from whence he came

to hear a familiar sound

All the nymphs had followed

Little Heyla on his trip

He recognizes tears of sorrow

and kissed the nearest on her lips

She sighed and smiled the slightest smile

Heyla patted her beautiful head

Soon he had kissed every glorious nymph

A round full of smiles as they carried him off to bed.

11-13-93

A dream

cushioned space memories fighting sanity

time addressed continuously pestering burning

crosses worship God semi pathos bubble

burst floating tree hippie child grown up

to be or not to be question me, life

fantasy spider web morning dread sound

alarm poppy field gerbera daisy cotton shield

black the all faces too shoes, boots, dew

falling, walking, praying, talking, image maker

03-01-94

A witches’ moon lies deep and low

A thickness in my belly

Orange orb of evening’s grace fulfilled

And I set about to start

The smoke creeps slowly as clouds overhead

I cut the lines a little darker

The abstraction of your life

It glows in time to the month long season

In my many blessed menstrual days

I offer blood up to the womb

Of loving grace, forever, the Goddess Diana

in her closet weeps, but loves her sweet submisivness

I catch the light of a full moon’s incandescence

As the earth below receives my every wish

My breath immersed in waves of Poseidon’s realm

I follow the hierophant to my enchantress doom

Rooted in this life, for better for worse

I’ll cut off your finger to get back the ring

Of a preposterous lie

In my Sibylline wisdom I’ll defeat your fey lie

Embrace the nights decision, eternal life! Mine

Under the celestial, gossamer moon

11-21-93

A moment of powerful time
Looking out the window
reading the rhymes of nature
over the closed pages of a book
Simply blissful flower
Freedom is your name
I wish I was your sister TODAY
I’d happily press up close to you
Or push your petals away
Until the clock strikes noon
Back to work, fleeting brush of time
Calling prisoners to her door
The pane is closed against the rain
I’ve forgotten the name of the flower