I spoke in quiet confidence,
sharing my pain and grief with you.
I spoke the truth.
Thinking I would find understanding,
comfort, or acknowledgement from you.
You stood up
when I finished.
No kind words came out.
Instead you turned from me,
and started to shout!
You screamed my words,
my pain, my life.
You screamed for all to know.
Then you turned,
thinking I would hide,
because the world now knew,
my deepest pain and grief.
You were shocked
to find me standing tall.
I will never choose to be small.
In your desire
to show the world my pain,
you also exposed yourself
for who you are.
I will not turn to you again.
I can walk away,
knowing without a doubt,
that I am safe now.
You cannot scream my pain and grief
to the world no more.
I will not hold it in,
but use it to inspire others
so they, too, can walk on
Hawk perched on the wooden dowel. Waiting for his meal. His wing grew stronger with the passing of each day. He knew it would not be long before he was soaring high in the heavens. How he longed to be free.
The women who found him and fixed him; talked to him daily. Letting him know he would not be a prisoner there. He would be strong enough one day to soar again.
He tried to patiently wait for the day of his release. While knowing he would miss some of his healing days, as the women who tended him, gave him hope. Her kind eyes always met his piercing gaze as she handed him his meal.
He planned to watch over her when he was free. Keeping the mice and rabbits out of her yard.
I heard a tapping at the door. Grumbling to myself, I uncurled from my seat, set my book down, and went to the door.
You stood there. Disheveled and ragged. It was hard to tell if the rain caused your unappealing appearance, or if you naturally looked that way. Tufts of blonde stuck out in all directions.
Your eyes sought mine. Pleading for shelter. Pleading for warmth and comfort from the storm.
The covered porch was keeping you dry for now, but the wind howled in gusts causing those blond tufts to continuously rearrange in a new disheveled state.
Pleading, soulful, brown eyes looked at me.
I knew what would happen if I let you in. I knew you would steal my heart. Uproot my life. Even knowing this, I stepped aside.
You trotted past. Sniffing at the table where my keys lay in a bowl. Tail slightly wagging; you looked back at me. In your eyes was relief to be warm and pleading to be accepted.
I patted your head, and suggested you get dry and fed. You grinned. More at the prospect of eating, then the drying part, I know.
Dry, fed, and warm. You sat at my feet while I posted a picture of you on the lost and found. Praying you were not lost to someone, but found.
the beat of life
when everything is right
everything is spot on
the world is alive