Collision

Underneath this great life,

an earthquake is brewing,

a shifting of the plates

under our feet.

I sense it,

I can almost touch it.

How did we get here?

The collision

is sudden,

unannounced.

Words spill,

littering the highway of life.

We remember how it began,

unaware of how it ends.

Choice

Tend to your garden,

cultivate it,

or scorch it down with gasoline.

Heal the blisters on 

your tongue,

revive the beauty rooted 

in love.

Stand in the dark

or claw your way 

toward the light.

It's your choice

to live

or die.

Shadows

Stories are written in the margins

of life,

on broken wings,

on calloused fingers.

Love breathes oxygen there.

Life exists

where black and white

transform into hues of grey.
Where dreams are tasted
but not lived.

Truth is questioned,

loyalty is tested,

shadows grow wings

abandoning the darkness behind.

Notes

Electronic post-it notes

in books I read

on my electronic devices.

I leave them buried,

like mines in a field,

waiting for another day

to tackle the written words,

string them into poems,

place them on the walls of my house,

and send them as dandelion seeds

into the universe.

Seeds to sprout courage for others

from my failures,

wisdom from my pain,

hope in my second chances.

Grief, seen by the soul rising 

to meet the searing pain.

Emotions, overflowing,

rushing,

knocking me off my feet,

drowning in my sorrow,

transforming

through time,

allowing it to melt 

and change,

morph

and grow,

into a beautiful memory.

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The Day She Never forgot

On April 4th, 1944, a few hundred American bombers took off from Foggia, in Italy, to survey the Romanian air space and bomb targets of economic importance. This was a US attempt to aid its Soviet ally in the struggle against the coalition led by Nazi Germany of which Romania was part of at the time. However, the American raid also targeted Bucharest, where they were attempting to destroy the main railway station switches. This resulted in a few thousand innocent civilians getting killed, mostly refugees from northern Moldavia.~I found an article about this day.  This is an excerpt from it. A memorable day that is a part of my family’s history. My mother, my uncle and my grandparents survived this day. The house they lived in was destroyed. They were in the house moments before the bomb turned their home to rubble. I always think of this day as a blessed day when they were chosen to survive and overcome. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. I know my mother never forget.

Spring

My hungry heart

whimpers like a dog

that wants to stay out of the rain.

My hungry heart

awakens 

to the shades of green in the grass

and the blue of the sky,

breathtakingly limitless.

The senses sharper

with the birth of spring.

The smell of life new.

Empty holes, filled with

 beauty and sorrow,

with blessings and loss,

overtake the moment.

Untouched

but seen.

Seen

and felt 

underneath our skin.