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Love Letter #61: Red

There are two days remaining
then where shall I fly?
Your words are still on my lips
stained red and forgiven.
I see them drop like flies
when I speak your name,
but you have seen this too
and fell, striped, thorned
without even a rose left
soft upon your skin
so why should I blink an eye,
here, in this dark realization
as I awaken,
soft hearted, like you,

beaten,
but not broken

~
~~I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 31.
I fell behind due to illness and hospitalization but am determined to finish even if I am behind.

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Surrender

There is a tremble in
2:00 a.m. quietude;
thunder when there is no storm,
weeping in the wake of senses,
a sweet song in the wind

and a fragrance of flowers
in the midst of prayer.

I see waves of consciousness
in the flutter of lashes
to the name lips murmur
when hope trickles

and we are forced to face
the truth.

~
~~I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 29.

I fell behind due to illness and hospitalization but am determined to finish even if I am behind.

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Pounding the Keys

I left the door open;
standing at attention
for whatever it is
you would have me do.
Sleep called me
and I asked dreams
to dance me a revelation.
There it lay on the table;
a pen and a blank page
and shadowing in the corner,
that old Underwood typewriter
he gave away;
another piece of my heart
ripped out,
but you always patch me up,
and send me back out there
to step over the rubble
to sigh out a testimony;

Once a poet,
always a poet.

~
~I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. This is day 28.

I fell behind due to illness and hospitalization but am determined to finish even if I am behind.

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After the Tears Run Out

I hear myself echo,
and dreams
seem to slip through my fingers
like sand did
when we were smiling.

Late, when I let my hair down;
when feelings fall,
lips form your name-
the only name
that touches me;
moves mountains,
sways treetops

with a sigh of wind.

I can’t take a step
without the calm of you;
the tenderness of your grace
upon limp shoulders
when my head falls
upon yours.

Sleep comes
after the tears run out
but morning
is like your smile;

warmth
through the length
of my tresses
assures my heart
that your love shines,
beams,
dresses my cheeks,
seeps into every crevice;

your love,

never fails.

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Hideaway

When the light begins to fade
and my feet can’t find the path,
I stumble through twisted roots
and beds of forget-me-nots;
search for the softness
of your grace;
a secret place
to hide

in the shadow
of your wings.

~
I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. .. This is day 20 #Jesus.

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In His Presence

Dry your tears on the softness of his grace
and leave your worries at his feet.
Let the darkness of worldly things
remain outside these stain glass windows
and reside in the peace of his presence.

~
I am writing a poem a day from November 24th until December 25, 2017 to celebrate the birth of Jesus. .. This is day 18.

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Love Letter #56: to Fireflies

It was one year to the day he left
in the coolness of March.
I waited
for a star to fall like it had that night.
I needed another sign from God
that he was somewhere warm;
somewhere sweeter

than the wildflowers we walked through
in that same field where I sat,
waiting,

then, came something softer
than a constellation
but, as close as a whisper,
with wings.

My head in my hands,
it all came back;
the song, the lyric
of him;

the smile on the lips of his last words,
echoing like lost syllables in damp air,

but then, this flickering thing,
it multiplied, divided-
like stars,
exploding in the Heavens
and there I was
under a skyful of light

wondering how could I
have ever doubted
you.