Tag Archives: relationships

Gift of Silence

The gift is old,
No longer possible
Nor shines like gold

There were moments,
Passed or played,
Not well spent

For gifts are shared
Not held
Or compared

Some you can open,
Others create,
Others spoken

It’s not the words praised
Or or objects held
For spirits raised

It’s the thought
That feels
Emotions caught

The gift of silence,
We’re understood
In just a glance


Seasons of the Heart

I used to feel more than the wind
I could hear the echo of memories
Dancing through my life
Sometimes glory, other times strife

My scorched soul lies in wait
As the summer sun mercilessly shines
Down on flesh and sand equally
Burning memories in kind

An autumn breeze becomes a scent
More than a smell, it’s a place and time
Traveling in a retrospective glance
With no reason or rhyme

Then the cold winter wind blows
touching chilling moments of pain
Freezing scenes of hope
As memories and fears wane

Then springs hope with the sounds
Of yesterday and tomorrow
The youth of thought
And the melting of sorrow

These are the seasons of my heart
Colorful and tragic in the same
Displayed for all to see
Or feel as I became

Rhythm of the Storm

Thunder on a tin roof cancels out the patter of thick raindrops beating a content rhythm. The staccato roll of memories fill my heart with a thud. Memories of you reverberate with us.

Lightening strikes as a glimpse into yesterday through a half empty bourbon bottle. Smoke drifts lazily towards a creaking ceiling fan wobbling to it own rhythm. Tomorrow doesn’t exist and now fades with each flash of lightening, leaving darkness in its wake.

Lost, me and the world, just staring into the distance entranced in times long faded into the myst. Here becomes there and now becomes then as I drift to the rhythm of memories drumming to the beat of the storm.

Soon the rain stops and the winds carry us away to distant horizons. Drops of us break free and fall to the earth silently. We are no longer a force. The thunder rumbles in distant memories as the lightening exposes the horizon for glimpses of maybe.

Then silence screams and the bourbon swishes within the bottle bringing sleep, rest for the lonely. I drift in and out of consciousness like I did love. Then I realize I’ve nothing left to fear but dreams.

Clouded Mirror

I’ve gazed into the stream
Watched my reflection
Drift away unseen

I’ve stood in the winds of time
And watched the world pass by
Making no sense or rhyme

Ive stood in the rain
Flooded with emotion
Void of pain

I’ve see the darkness within
Through the cracks of lightening
Flashing across a soul too thin

I’ve felt the thunder in my bones
Bring back memories
Thrown like sticks or stones

I’ve become the storm to love
Riding swollen streams
Under dark skies above

Life is reciprocal in tone
Darkness for light, evil sees good
And yet I walk alone

Where is my reflection
What reveals me,
Suffers my intention

So I assimilate the sublime
Like a cloudy day
Brings memories of sunshine

To reflect is giving myself away
revealing so little
Of who I truly seek one day

Until then I’ll ride the storms
And show you who you are
Taking different paths and forms

April Full

“April Fools Day”, dreaded or anticipated, is an “off guard” experience. I awaken alert to the possibility that before breakfast I’ll be duped. I resolutely descend the staircase to laughter and the smell of bacon and coffee. My consolation.

“Good Morning” echoes through the wall of wooden cabinets lining the kitchen just above the mornings clutter of dishes, empty containers, and eggshells. The work never ends!

“Morning” I reply. Leaving the “good” for posterity. I have a character to maintain. Resolved that “it’s” coming I sit down to a cup of motivation anticipating the beginning of the “Day of Lies”.

“What’s on the list this morning?” I ask with feigned interest. “I’ve got to clean out the stalls before taking “Smoke” to the veterinarian at noon.” I weakly State.

“What’s wrongs with smoke?” Emelia asks. “I thought we were taking the truck to the mechanics shop for the transmission this morning.”

“That’s Friday”, I reply as the coffee fuels my brain to decipher the two questions thrown like darts. “Smoke has a busted up leg from getting caught up in the wire yesterday. He’ll be fine in a couple days.”

“So that’s where those cuts on your arm came from.” Emelia accused. “I can help for an hour or so with the barn, smells like fun! She joked. And off we went to clean the barn.

“Surprise!!!” I was lost for a moment. Shouting people and sudden light filtered through my brain. Around me stood my sons with their families, my daughter and her fiancé, who’s way to soft to be found in a barn, and my best friends John and Linda. All staring at me with smug smiles. Then it came with a thunder. “April Fools!!!” I sunk my head and removed my hat to run my fingers through my hair before staring everyone down.

Then I noticed that something was out of place. The barn was spotless. The truck was parked at the other end just outside the door and Smoke wasn’t in his stall. “Where’s Smoke” I asked firmly. I don’t play around about my horse, especially since he was all banged up.
“Doc Grunner agreed to pick him up last night while you were soaking your bruises. He called this morning and said the ornery bastard was fine and eating all his feed. He’ll have him back on Saturday.” My son JR stated rather informatively.

“And the truck?” I asked with my time honored resolute tone. “How’d it get up here at the barn?”

John piped up with laughter in his voice. “Not sure why you’re even asking. That damned truck been sitting in the field since we were farming dirt for mud bricks. Turns out it wasn’t the transmission, it was the clutch. Melia, (that’s was his name for Emelia) asked me to check it out last week. I got the parts over at Joe’s salvage and fixed it on Wednesday while you was at the auction.”

“Unbelievable, ya’all been busy behind my back, but this don’t feel like “April Fools”, feels like Christmas, or my birthday! I said

Emelia laughed, “we’re all well aware of how you feel about this day, and we knew you’d be on the lookout for some trickery. So we decided to fool you in a good way!”

“Yeah, cause if it was your birthday you’d be on guard at every moment for your surprise party. That makes this a double fools day! John said jokingly.

There were tables with the breakfast things I hadn’t noticed were missing strewn out. Chairs all around and laughter in the air mixed with hay and manure. Turned out to be a good morning after all. That day was free of chores now and everyone celebrated like it was a holiday.

That evening as I sat out front on the porch rockin, smokin, and drinkin it occurred to me that I’d been a fool all my life. I spent too much time workin, thinkin, and worryin.

I had glimpses of my blessins on holidays or special occasions, but they were always a sort a interruption. Sittin here now I realize all those years they couldn’t fool me, because I was the fool, and fools don’t pay attention to nothin in front of them. They spend their time dreaming of tomorrow or frettin about yesterday.

I think I’ll just leave that fool behind and enjoy now forever. I can’t go wrong with that. I have a full life, I’ll leave the fools life to someone else. From now on every day is gonna April full!!!


The storm, wrestled and temporary
All around the swirling vortex of emotion, the calm sits eternally. Like a promise to believers who can see past the clouds into the heavens within us.

It’s hard to see your way to the center where silence whistles and warns of the next step. The eye is clear and light shines through a center only you can see, only you can feel. Confidently I stand knowing that just the other side of the swirling debris and dust is what’s left, life.

I must move with the winds of time avoiding the edge of chaos. The wall of thundering clouds surround this pristine space where you can feel the color of the wind and hear shapes that scream with the force of eternity, but here I’m a universe. Here I raise my heart to truth joining a legacy of humanity.

But here I’m alone. Lost to the horizon that surrounds the earth with hope and wonder. A respite from the turmoil created by lesser beasts seeking to thrive on the emotions of bowed heads and bruised knees. Death comes slow to the one defeated by fear.

Separated from the sounds of liberty and the smell of victory my words have no meaning. I must escape the sounds of silence screaming within my heart. I must walk through the fog of debris and torment into the the light of day, through the glow of night into a new day. A day of reckoning.

This demarcation is a birth. A new beginning where the past becomes silent, once again leaving now to hope for tomorrow. I only know and think what the future can be, what now will produce. I must close the book and remember throughout time that pages are a past that fade with time. A collection of privilege passed on through genetic inferiority with the hope another man will prove their indulgence was valor. Now we control truth.

So cast your lots free. Set your burdens aloft. Hold nothing but the light of day as a path through the night. Walk forward with your head held high knowing that now is forever and yesterday never is. Here you can gaze into tomorrow leaving fear and ignorance behind for the beauty of hope and truth.


Expectations are dangerous in many ways. Depending on folks takes trust. Believing in yourself raises doubts. Some times we work hard and it doesn’t pay off.

The most dangerous expectation is that everyone loves you. It’s this all or nothing thing wrapped in co dependence and Facebook cliches. It’s like folks don’t understand social media is virtual, not actual for most folks.

It’s ok if folks just “like” you. That’s probably closer to normal. It’s also closer to normal that someone may like you, but not like some things you do, that’s normal too. Like say for instance, someone may not like the way you need to be loved by anyone you come into contact with, especially virtual contact like social media, but like the way you hope for the best.

I think expectations about others based on anything but human contact is the beginning of a dysfunctional relationship. You don’t have to look much further than the show “Catfish” to see the extreme example. It’s like you can predict the level of dysfunction by correlating the time between contact on social media and actual contact.

If you’ve had a relationship “on line” for more than a couple weeks and have not touched the person you’re communicating with physically there’s certainly something “Fishy”! One of you is hiding something. If the “relationship” has morphed to months or years it’s about as real as your infatuation with a TV star.

These are of course extreme examples. Normal folks don’t have these detached virtual relationships and believe they’re real. It doesn’t mean they can’t work in the real physical world. Maybe two folks finally meet, have some drinks, and laugh off the lies disguised as exaggerations and move foreword with their real selfs. Highly unlikely, but possible if you have no expectations.

My point is that even our closest friends who may “love” some things about us, may not like things about us, this is normal. It’s cool to be liked. The need to be “loved” is usually a delusion tied to something you do or have. It’s good enough to be a “good guy, or girl”.

The meaning of love is under attack. The onset of social media has deluded its meaning and contributed to dysfunctional virtual and real relationships. A little thought before you let those words or letters fly can go a long way towards being liked for who you are.

The expectations for loved ones are not temporary or attached to anything but the heart. So go forward and be a good person, that will yield more happiness and love than any word will produce.