Love is tear drops on a goodnight pillow when a “goodnight” is missed,
Love is concern for well being at even the most minor of scrapes,
Love is foregoing the good, so another is not left alone,
Love is giving the hard truths when most needed
Love is the tear stained shoulder,
Love is band aid kisses to make it all better,
Love is letting go,
Love is holding on,
Love is finding meaning in seemingly insignificant moments,
Love is an infinite abstract source
That keeps finding new and awe inspiring ways to be made known
Love is.
Tag: poem
For Granted
In an instant
It can be bad or worse
What we take for granted may be
That moment that hangs
with life or death
in the balance
There is Always More
Hazel brown eyes glistening
With new
Fill me with hope,
Fill me with promise of another generation,
That is now absorbing all there is to know,
There is doubt,
But so much wonder in just these eyes,
There must be more,
I cannot think that my child alone holds such wonder,
There is hope,
And there is always more
Warmth of Sun
The sun spares some warmth
All ages become young kids
Time seems to stand still
Someone’s Hero
I do not see it,
Day to day,
The me that takes your breath
Away,
I need reminded now
And then,
That I am much greater
Than I imagine,
How far I have come,
How much I have done,
I must stop and really try
To recall,
But from the outside
From someone else’s view,
To appreciate
That I may be
Someone’s hero,
Just by being me,
Despite the odds,
By living,
By persevering
Discovering the “Doctrine of Discovery”
Once upon a time ago
A Pope sat upon his throne
And decreed all that all will condone,
Doctrine of Discovery,
–This land, this people, this wealth “we” now own,
For God has seen that only certain Christians may decide
who is wrong, and who is right,
And black and white,
And red and yellow,
And East and West,
And North and South,
Left and Right,
Carving up the world,
Like a pie,
Deciding who lives,
who dies,
To whom shackles are assigned,
As slaves to God’s domain,
And on and on it goes,
That was then, 15th century,
And still well meaning “explorers,”
And “freedom” fighters get to cut apart the globe,
Causing wounds so deep they never close,
And this is good,
And this is right,
For the Papal Bulls
and now our government tell me so
She of Letters 