Tag: creative

Starting Point

Don’t remember much about you,

From growing up.

Don’t know if we didn’t have many

Meaningful conversations,

Or if we didn’t emotionally connect,

Or if you just weren’t around.

I see you in the few pictures

We still have left.

That’s proof! I shout,

To nobody in particular.

You were there.

You came to my games,

To my concerts,

To my awards ceremonies.

But did you say anything to me?

Anything memorable?

Anything impressionable?

Anything teachable?

Why don’t I remember you?

I know you were proud of me.

I felt your support when I knew

You were there.

But what did it mean?

What was our relationship like?

Did we ever talk about things?

And why didn’t I ever go to you

For help, when I got into the many

Conflicts, arguments and problems

With family or friends?

If you were there, if you were around,

Why didn’t I take advantage of it?

Maybe you weren’t the problem.

Maybe I just didn’t know

What to say, how to ask,

How to express myself.

Maybe I didn’t quite understand

What families and friends are

All about?

I didn’t know how to safely

Navigate those potentially perilous

Waters, without asking questions

From someone more experienced,

Someone wise, someone loving,

Someone who cares.

And maybe that’s why I have

Such a hard time believing in God,

Believing he’s there for me,

Offering grace, tenderness, mercy,

Forgiveness, wisdom and guidance.

I don’t have a relationship that

Means something because

I don’t know how to connect,

How to ask for help,

How to express my thankfulness.

I don’t even sense his quiet support,

His delight in his child.

Midnight Mayhem

Scurrying about,

In the midnight hours,

Like a little mouse,

Searching for a piece of cheese;

But you are up to much more,

As those wild emotions

Race through your mind,

And those dips of depression,

Fuel the fire of sadness and anger,

You break out the vacuum cleaner,

And do a few loads of laundry.

Good channeling for my sake,

Better than the belt,

Or a wicked rage,

Accompanied by fists

And insults galore,

Not constructive criticism,

But damning put-downs

Reserved for closed doors.

A Quiz

Sometimes, there is a quiz.

The Universe, it says,

Do you love me?

Nature makes a pact

With us, it is a fact.

It wonders,

Do you love me?

Over all the time

That has passed on earth;

Good and bad have been done.

Humans haven’t treated

Each other in the best way.

And our planet has suffered.

The earth tries its best

To fix the many disasters

That humans have created.

And the poor, the hungry,

The homeless, the lonely,

All say, do you love me?