grief for the Holy Child

a sword would pierce my side, he said. he spoke nothing of my heart. how it would be ripped apart seeing Him hung, dangle on that tree, listening to blasphemy hurled upon my Boy. to them, His pain was politics. the death of a Dream. a Man who gave dinner. a Leader. a Sinner. a ...

poverty over

a mind of poverty — a lack. is there a way to turn the clock back and undo the “setting in?” the “setting in” of competition the “setting in” of the suspicion that it’s all dog-eat-dog so don’t dare risk at all… because then, you’ll lose everything.   (“everything” ain’t much.)   a mind of poverty ...

In memory.

22. November 2016 home&family, loss, photos, poetry 1
It was unexpected, his final departure. When he finally was granted his rest. You see, he was the best. The best at rides on his mower, The best tomato grower, The best at cast iron corn bread, Kisses on heads, And (most-of-the-time) at cards. He was the best at Christmas. The decorations were extravagant Yet ...

endless grace

it’s been a couple of months ago now when a dear, dear man to me went home to be with his Jesus. i used to try and be brave at funerals, but i didn’t even bother at his.  i let my grief fall freely down my face, as my heart ached at my loss– at ...

balloons on your chair.

july 15th was my cousin’s birthday.  it was his first in heaven; it was our first without him. ____ it was your birthday… and i cried for you. seeing balloons dance in the wind around grief.. around graves… i cried for you. everyone had left by then. i was late to the party they had; ...