Heartshaped Tears

Each day as the numbers rise, the lump in my throat grows larger as I am reminded that they are more than just numbers. Someone is losing a loved one. Someone is worried they will lose a loved one. Someone is feeling cut-off and alone, like there may be no way out. I feel helpless and the tears cannot be held back. I shed tears filled with love because love is one thing that has not been stopped when the brakes were put on the world as we knew it.

I am posting the link to two songs that I feel offer hope and peace. I send love to you, my fellow readers.

You’re Gonna Be Okay by Brian & Jenn Johnson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjF9IqvXDjY

Be Still My Soul by Kari Jobe

Social Isolation

(internet photo)

Today it’s difficult for me to remain optimistic. It’s our granddaughter’s birthday and to add insult to injury, the gift we ordered online to be delivered before this special day, has not yet arrived. I don’t want to have the day pass empty handed from us so I have written her a humble story and illustrated it to the best of my ability. Singing “Happy Birthday” over the phone with her triggered my tears… I guess it’s a small price to pay if we can remain healthy.

I wish everyone strength and fortitude to get through this. May we all remain healthy!

Reading some poetry by Jimmy Pappas, a New Hampshire poet, inspired the following:

Social Isolation

We cannot
tell

if it is time
for

Friday night wine
or

Sunday
prayers.

Let us
bow our heads.

Mother’s Day Gratitude

Light-in-Heart

(internet photo)

My heart swells with gratitude for:
French toast in the morning and burgers at night
sunshine on a golf course
long distance phone calls
text messages
blonde hair, blue eyes and a big smile
yellow orchids
cupcakes with sticky icing
Dutch accents
watching Game of Thrones
laughing about Game of Thrones
hugs
gently falling rain

Falling Tears

Tears are falling all around me,
diamond sorrow beads
silently spilling over flushed red cheeks.

A room full of emotion
becomes a sauna as numb people gather.
Perspiration dots foreheads,
dark circles stain arm pits.

Words of comfort are spoken
while words of sorrow are swallowed
along with stagnant, suffocating air.

A youth walking
in the shadow of addiction
stepped across onto the wrong side
of the line.
In an instant his soul sped away.
Life evaporated.

Anger rises above grief.
Anger at the monster
that has come into our homes.
Anger at the beast
that has enslaved our loved ones.
Anger at the powerlessness
we have in the face of this horror.

Hot tears stream.
Heaving tears overflow.
Shocked tears splatter.

Tears are falling all around me
diamond sorrow beads
silently spilling over flushed red cheeks.

Shattered

Wine glass shatters
stem and goblet severed
illusions of relationship
exposed

Sharp jagged edges revealed
captivating expensive bouquet covered
robust promises
forgotten
hidden
left to languish
unable to balance with delicate notes
of expectation

Scatted shards lay on the table
lay on the floor
as once you laid with me
fragments of our hopes and dreams
loosened from a grasp
now splintered pieces

What once was
no longer is

A stark realization

How appropriate the glass was empty
no red stain on the precious carpet
blank white
pure contrast to tainted desires
no tears
no drops
to mourn the loss

Resignation
a simple break
to open eyes
how fragile words have become
how brittle emotions

Hidden cracks
now fully visible

Waiting

“You make a life out of what you have, not what you’re missing.” – Kate Morton

disappointment

again

lump in throat
waiting for a call that doesn’t come

mind racing
to account for reason why
thoughts toss and tumble
adrift on rough waters
of stormy emotions

tears surface but do not fall
a blind barrier
camouflaged by past hunts
to make sense of behaviour
has arisen

resignation
sadness
suffuse the room
blocking sunlight
covering all with a blanket of grey melancholy

although much has changed
much remains the same

Broken Glass

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Mirror breaks inexplicably
invisible stone
hurled
by a petulant force
seeking attention

Shattered

Shards litter floor
prismatic glass mosaic
hundreds of pieces
return disjointed image
echo chaos
flash alarm

Art deco
Nouveau art
Art less

Strewn about
fragments catch light
direct variegated colors around room
or blind with angry
blast of sun’s rays
blink tears to protect eyes

Some bits are flipped
reflective side down
unable to face their new reality

Photo frame characters
watch from across room
frightened by crash
they seem to leap
to escape their restricted confinement

Clean up is like walking through a minefield
where great care must be taken
not to detonate
a slumbering weapon of destruction

Remnants of mirror
not forgotten mines
lay visible
but every now and then
unseen splinters
pierce and draw blood
an exacting toll
to assuage guilt
for breakage of
the valuable mirror