Healing the hurt

Whimpering
Dreams bringing pain
Holding
Strong hands protecting
Tears
Wetting a shoulder
Fears
Slowly dissipating
Father
Just a name
Papa
Protecting always

A tear slowly trails down his cheek
How can a father have caused so much hurt?
He holds her until the sobs cease
Lays her head back on her pillow
Kisses her cheek
Whispers sweet dreams
And silently fades into the night

From hate to love.

Hate!
Negativity!

She put them down?
Could the words destroy a life?
Can new words lift us up?

Positivity!
Love!

A Smile

Music playing on the internet.
Joy in listening to something truly moving.
Melody touching the heart.
Words unknown. Not English.
But meaningful.
Words being music along with the chords.
Smiling.
Listening. Feeling. Believing.

Is God us?
Do we have the ability to transcend the banal?
Watching a child and contemplating.
Smiling.

A word stands out. "Von."
Not English but meaning hope.
Icelandic. The Sagas.
Soul touching. Soul Searching.
Perhaps there is hope.
Smiling.

The touch of a hand.
A word of comfort.
Feeding the hungry.
Leaving religion behind and being a true humanist.
A smile can change the world.

Waste of life

A kid was killed for a laptop at ASU. Shot. I wrote a poem about it.

gunshot
blood and pavement
life is worth what?

tears
dirt on a grave
hating to say goodbye

Memories
lost in time
What a tragic waste

A Poem

Yahweh looks on in disdain
El Shaddai will not accept

The mountain peak is my temple
The forest glade my cathedral

Ashera looks on and smiles
My Elat will never reject

My home is my sacred place
She dwells there

The Almighty turns his back
God has total antipathy

Golden Rule

Think about it.

The Journey Part 2

Wil remebered something. Was it from his past? Lloyd from a place called Lincoln in the UK. A long trek at a camp in Michigan. Circle Pines? So tired then but Lloyd had been a help. Physically and mentally. He needed another Lloyd but knew that wasn't possible now.

Wil forced himself to hands and knees. So far but he could see it now. A goal that might be in sight. No energy to stand. So he crawled. One inch at a time. Forward. Always forward.

Reaching the saddle brought temporary relief. He looked behind and could just make out the forest thru the swirling, dark clouds. How he made it this far alone puzzled him. Time and again he was ready to just give up.

Ahead also lay another great expanse. But instead of tumbled trees and jagged rock, it was rolling hills and he could see a lake or ocean off in the distance.

Wil rested for a bit more then started down. The way was easy. Not a trail but soft short grass. Bright green.

The hours passed and Wil again began to tire. Although the way was easier, he covered more ground. Driven to reach the far off shore.

The sunlight began to fade as the moon rose above the horizon. It would be dark soon but with the light of the moon Wil could continue on. He trudged along. So tired. So in need of rest.