Mornings in my cafe'

A young girl, all tattooed up in hippie clothes, walks into my cafe followed by a lanky blonde, all Louis Vittoned up. The girl is sweet, charged with hope and a huge crooked smile. As she counts out the dirty loose change from her purse, she chats me up about how wonderful our coffee is and how she loves the new art on the walls, she even notices the new faucet, "the old one used to drip, she remarks, "you must be so happy to have a brand new one!" She means this. She is eternal optimism and seems impervious to cynicism, doubt, hatred or greed. She is like being around the sun for all that are lucky enough to orbit her. I bet you know someone like this.

The lanky Louis...well, she is stunning at first glance, then she orders her  double-shot latte',  her cell, wedged in her ear, talking in judgmental clips, while her Platinum Amex tap dances on the counter to a frenetic beat . She has not noticed me, the art, or anyone for that matter. Deeper and more sadly still, she has not noticed herself. I find this sad and at the same time I find I'd like to slap her, knowing everyone on the cafe' would surely applaud. I imagine you know someone like this as well.

Many would lean towards the Louis as the beauty. But to know the ones that missed the beauty in the young girl astonishes me enough to have a second conversation with my husband that night and a third and fourth about it on the phone with my daughter and best friend. They get it and that smooths down my feathers a bit.

I must say this as a counter point. Typically, beautiful woman get prejudged before one gets to hear one word slip from their painted lips. Most women might have seen the same woman enter my cafe and felt a familiar anger and an unsettled insecurity itch up their legs as she walked by. Had she shared the same inner beauty as the young tattooed girl, she would have been wrongly scorned because she was so beautiful. Or, men might predispose she was all they have longed for when, maybe, she in truth was no brighter than that of a 40 watt bulb. 

The coin is a tricky one of beauty vs. beauty. You need only wait a few minutes to let her unfold before you and reveal her true self. Whether she is a disheveled miss Woodstock or a glossy Vogue statue, she may just surprise you. 

A time to let go...

Needing to let go of something happens over and over again in life. I'm working on it right now.There are people who push our buttons, people that hurt us, cause us envy and pride. But then a moment happens, my first was when my daughter, who was three at the time, was very ill with a bug of some kind. She wasn't getting better, she was getting worse and while the doctor assured me over the phone that she would be fine, I knew better.

I scooped up her listless body and went straight to the ER, where she immediately received 6 hours of IV fluids and electrolytes for dehydration from all of the diarrhea and vomiting. I remember the moments before the the doctor opened the curtain. The room was dimly lit, my husband was on his way and I was sitting on a chair beside her little perfect still body. I bent over her, lowering my head against her side and I prayed as I smoothed my hand over her head. I mean I PRAYED. Nothing mattered but her being okay. 

Funny the thoughts that creep into dark times, thoughts of a snotty sister- in- law that I had let bother me for years disappeared and so did so many other trivial things that seemed real and hurtful to me. Now they meant less than nothing. I was free from it all. All that mattered was clear.The doctor entered the room and the nurse started the IV line. My daughter didn't even flinch as it went in. A few minutes later my husband walked in, kissed her and me, and we sat in silence. She was pail, silent and fragile. Just ten minutes later, her cheeks began to pinken-up, she starting talking, and then she smiled. I thanked God over and over as I kissed her and kissed my husband.

Later that night at home as I lay in her bed with her on top of me, her hands wrapped up in my hair, I felt her body rise and fall with each breath; I remembered the epiphany I had earlier and I felt changed. I didn't care what people thought about me or if my sister-in-law like me. It was clear what was important. My family. What was important was life and goodness and to have a soft and open heart. To love.

Time tends to blur this clarity, people challenge it daily without even knowing, and you do't even remember that it has slipped away until the next time you almost lose someone you love or something tragic happens or almost happens. there are days that change us all forever, 9/11, Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook,etc and you say to yourself," this petty stuff just doesn't matter." We need to be good and kind and care for one another. 

Time goes by and people begin to forget. They forget to be kind, to take a moment when someone has reacted poorly and think, "hey, they must be having a pretty bad day." They forget to hold doors and say thank you..really, thank you for being you. And there you stand, confronted by life and its shitty people-moments, and we all have them, and you have to make a choice. Grab hold and jump in with the lot of them or be the first domino and hug someone or forgive them, write a quick note letting someone know you care. Be human,

and just let go.

1000 Tents Away

 

1000 Tents Away ~ For Nick

Are you real or is this a dream

from whence all the breaths

and whispered prayers brought you

like an over eager child I had waited

finding not you
but trouble and empty quiet skies

the proof of God was in your arrival

that is what the little girl believed

always alone, I sat and smiled 

as good girls should

always with the quiet promise

of you

of God

where are you

please come now

the young girl in me whispered

feathered into the summer's night air

again and again

heart ache after heart ache

thinking it was you each time 

but feeling that it wasn't

knowing it wasn't

a mirror and me

alone and together we faced ourselves

day after day

summer after summer

eyes connected

one cold glassy version

one warm, soft figure

beaded with hope

rivers from green pools

landing on cold porcelain

I should have know it was you when you arrived on paper

so many moons later

maybe I did

maybe you did too

deceived,we ran for cover in each other's arms

again and again

until our wings would shelter each other

where we would grow together

waking the love

illuminating the truth

the bond of me

the bond of you

of the new us we had longed for

love, deep delicious love

beating like a bird's wings

on its first flight

the feel of your skin

your body folding around mine

for comfort, for safety and assurance

I am set free with each day of your love, my darling

I am held fast and firm with each new commitment

unteathered at last from old roots of fear

old stories from tents of Indians

that left me alone and afraid

in foreign lands, among strangers

that were my family

then you

out of the fire

and the starry night

a spiral of smoke

a thunder of horses

I'm coming for you,Tara

I'm coming soon

sleep in the safety of that, my dear one

and so I did

and for years

I swam in it

drank from it

slept beside it

walked alone with you

your sky

your stars

your promise

and I believed

always, I believed you

in the dark now

I need only your whisper

Tara...Tara...

pushing my long hair to the side

tracing your finger down my back

and back up

my neck

my whispies

all yours now

a warm foot reaches

hopeful across a sea of white

a soft sigh and a nudge to roll over 

to come to you

my breath...yours

warm wet words

soft promised kisses

a smiling harvest moon

peaks through the window

illuminating your face

I'm home....

I'm home, Tara

and the innocent six year old

still within me

whispers in your ear...

I knew it was you...

Without Julia

Without Julia ~

When there is nothing but the deafening silence
and all the tears have been cried
who do I turn to now
when you are no longer a drive away
a family away
a home away
who will fill the void

When the mundane brings a madness in laughter
it will always be you that delivers its gift
When my heart is tired from the searching
for it has been your space in which it rests
where will I find shelter

When I long for just one more moment
of all that is you
that believed in me
and all of my despair hasn't brought you back
This is when I know,
I will have known
that you were here all along
in silence now
but ever so real
even while you are loving me
from a country away.

And when you stare at your new ocean
which is no longer mine
I will be in every hiss of spray
that kisses your cheeks
Every ebb and flow that runs across your path
will wash our brief gift of time across all borders
to reach you,
to soothe your heart in the missing.

Every new paint that pours on your canvas
every new cafe and flower shop along the market place
In all these things you will find me
behind every new orchid you cherish
I will guard your heart.

and one day, sweet, perfect Julia
when you least expect me
I will be at your door
novel and smile in hand
ever the same
as if not but a moment had passed through us.

You are my dearest friend
my greatest surprise
my strongest sister
my fiercest champion
the bravest woman
and truest heart
as ever
I am yours.
In all ways, always.

Peach~

The Sacred Tree

 

Ah my divine lover,

How can I spread my love across so many hills and trees

to call you through the darkness

through the din of tree frogs

and cicadas and fireflies

to blend me to your soul

to mark my body in your scent

and fold me into your heart

safely tucked away.

 

Ah sweet poet

scared though you may be

I have sewn my love to you

to carry you now, to mend

to light up with heat and fire

to bind us like limbs

wrapping, twisting, climbing

until we can no longer feel each others absence in the night

to fain in delicious pleasure

as furious winds blow through our lush canopy

 

Ah new and unexpected man

seeking marrow I am

wanting to tear at your flesh

to inhale and delight you in every second

with every anxious tension you betray

every old story falling from your memory

every wound smashed like glass jars of honey

delightful, sweet scents of my nectar

to replace all that was once immovable in you

to release your sweet sounds to me

across all things between us

darkness and light

 now ours to hold

Pass the salt, peach...: Without her

Pass the salt, peach...: Without her: her heart will be a mistress to no one she must be all that breathes life into you or she will disappear is it her past that carved the r...