Forgiveness And The Long Way Home

I had a red shinny tricycle,

but never a bicycle.

I dreamt of riding free,

in a yellow lemon dress,

flying down the hill

with the wind caressing my hair.

Dad feared I would fall

and I would hurt myself.

So I didn't fly until years later,

when I ran away,

no longer accepting to be sheltered

from the storms of life.

I left with a plane ticket,

the clothes on my back,

and a dream in my eyes.

My purse stuffed with family photographs

that I treasured,

memories of what I was leaving behind.

No money

or plans,

the man sitting next to me spoke

about pre Colombian  art,

puzzled, he watched the stars in my eyes.

My life was waiting,

forbidden love,

youth, brilliant and reckless.

Seduced by a freedom fighter,

not knowing he worshiped methadone,

hidden away in the refrigerator.

When John Lennon was shot

I still believed in the change that never came.

I battled his demons

and lost.

Broken dreams and promises.

I woke up one day and walked

away with my soul battered
but not defeated.

I walked away 

and opened new doors

and dreamt new dreams

fire in my soul

the wind on my back.

This week I turn 51. A time to reflect on an amazing journey called life.

Meet us at http://dversepoets.com where we share our thoughts and our hearts. 

Blessed with these boys in my life, my husband and sons. They make my life complete.
 

Struggle

Walk a thousand miles

to learn a lesson,

not seeking perfection,

but seeking to be more human.

Pebbles on the road,

trials and tribulations along the way,

a life well lived.

I wish I could see the world

through your eyes.

I want to feel your beating heart,

when you feel fragile,

when you feel exposed,

when I hear your voice tremble with doubt .

Let the wind whisper in your ear,

let your inner compass guide you.

Stand in the rain,

embrace the storm.

Struggle will bring tranquility,

struggle will bring wisdom.

Meet us here, http://dversepoets.com where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Frozen

The delicious smells escaped the restaurant,

I stood in the alley watching my son practicing 

his Kung Fu forms, 

while ducks roamed outside

searching for food in the grass.

A storm of emotions through my mind,

frozen I could not step through the double wood doors,

I couldn't breathe,

I couldn't walk into the past.

Dad loved the big round table,

the white tablecloth stiff with starch,

conversation would flow over

sweet and spicy bold flavors.

Dad would pour tea in the small

ceramic cup and delight in the moment.

He loved abundance of food,

and life

something he learned

while being hungry during the war.

He lived a big life,

and he knew the meaning of it.

One day I conquered my fears,

I walked through those doors,

like dipping my feet in the cold ocean,

small steps.

I walked in to pick up take out,

love in small boxes of white and red.

Familiar faces were absent ,

I sighed with relief.

I could not bare to tell the owner,

that I was alone,

that my parents are gone,

that I could never sit at the big round table

again.

I took my boxes home,

closed my eyes,

and as I tasted the food,

I closed my eyes 

and I remembered.

 

 

 

This week is a hard week for me. Father's Day comes right before my dad's birthday which is on June 23. My dad was a special man and we shared a special bond. I write about him , it helps the longing and it helps with the loss. The Chinese restaurant that my parents loved to go to is in the same plaza as my son's Kung Fu school is. It took me a long time to be able to walk through those doors even for takeout.  Please meet us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Your Footprints On My Soul (Father's Day)

I clear the table, traces of sunny side eggs,

 red tomatoes, crumbs of whole wheat bread 

and cappuccino in his new Father's Day mug. 

" I am an orphan " I say

 and he looks at me sideways. 

" orphans are small children, you are a grown woman. "
In my heart lives a child
that no longer
has reaching arms to surrender to.
In my soul lives a child
that longs for the look in my father's eyes
telling me that I am the  sun and his stars.
I had wished this year would be easier,
lighter to carry
but the pain never leaves,
saturates my dreams.
I celebrate the memory,
I celebrate life,
but today this grateful heart
remembers the footprints he left forever
on my soul.


Happy Father's Day to all my family and friends. To my husband who is a wonderful dad. To my dad who I miss and love. He was an amazing man and my heart will never be the same without him.
This is a part ofhttp://magpietales.blogspot.com/Puddle, 1952, M. C. Escher

A Home

The walls bare,

waiting like a canvas to be painted

with your colors.

Missing pieces to a chest of drawers,

waiting for the internet connection,

sleeping on the air mattress on the floor.

Small details you share

in our conversation on the phone.

Your voice tired,

your voice eager,

building furniture for your new life.

"My girl and I are moving",

I heard you say and I smiled,

because it sounded so sweet to me.

One thousand four hundred and seventy five miles away,

bittersweet to watch you go,

holding my breath in anticipation. 

Decorate your home with laughter you share,

fill your home with the love you make,

moments that build your life.

Inspire one another and find sanctuary in each others arms.

 

 

This is dedicated to my son Josh and his girlfriend Irina. They moved to a new city to start their residency. This past week they have been busy building furniture, getting their home ready for their new life and journey. They had little challenges that they encountered which they tried to tackle before they begin their work in the hospital. We wish them good luck and we are so proud of all they have accomplished to get to this point. I've been posting about both my boys in the last few weeks  since I've been consumed with all the changes in our life. Please meet us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Fifth Grade Graduation

I hear people say that you have big shoes to fill,

to follow your brother's footsteps.

Son, you are making your own mark,

your own footprints .

Your eyes shine with knowledge and wisdom

of an old soul.

Words map your world,

destinations you have yet to conquer.

You follow your vast imagination.

Daily stories,

magical secrets of fifth grade,

that you share with me while we

read side by side.

I soak in details of your world.

As a toddler you had imaginary friends,

at school you created real friendships.

Trails of sand from the playground

followed you home.

Tin foil dinosaurs you brought 

to life with your words.

Greek mythology and paper airplanes,

monsters in Minecraft.

Giant brown eyes filled with endless compassion.

Dream your big dreams,

embrace the world with both arms.

Lend a hand to someone in need,

listen to your heart.

If storms come your way,

find the sunshine within you.

Struggle will only make you stronger.

Reach for mountain peaks,

live with wonder in your heart,

but most of all find the joy in everything.   

Our son Daniel is graduating fifth grade and going into middle school. This is dedicated to him. We are so proud of him. He is bright and kind and amazing. People always tell him that he should follow his brother Josh. As many of you know Josh graduated two weeks ago from medical school. We are proud of both of them and we are amazed by all that Daniel has accomplished so far. 

" We love you Daniel and we are so proud of you! "

Please join us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Mountains

The water rolls off my fingers,

as I wash the raspberries,

the same way your words roll

off your tongue.

The raspberries bleed,

 my heart bleeds.

Sweating the small stuff

invades our world .

Life is short I always say,

through the tears I see

that if I moved mountains for you,

it would not be enough.

Meet us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.