Last Night…
August 4, 2015
Was a dreamless night. I awoke even before my alarm sounded and dared not look at the time. If I look, I cannot go back to sleep. Staring into the cool darkness I turned over, adjusted my pillow, and pulled the covers around my throat. Sometime afterwards the chime brought me into morning.
This is a calm day for me. I let go of more material things early this A.M. with the scheduled curbside pickup. I can still see the items waiting dutifully for their transportation to their new home, I feel no guilt. Some of the items are brand new, still in their original containers. Others, old as the hills, but with a good cleaning and if desired, some paint, can earn their keep. The main point is to let them do what they were created to do. Be useful.
I remind myself that things are just exactly that. They have no love, no hate, no anything. You can pick something up that brings you a thousand memories and it feels nothing. It sits silently in your hands with no where to go, except where you direct.
I have no dirt from my childhood, yet I close my eyes and still smell its rich dark aroma. The tree that produced huge sweet pears so full of juice that it dripped down your chin is gone, but my mind conjures it up, complete with the large buzzing bumblebees, yellow jackets, and honey bees that feasted off the bounty for years. The year after we moved the tree died. I always said that it missed us. I still believe that. We grew up playing under it, our dog having his house nearby. After the dog died and we left, I think it realized it had done its work. It provided us with sweet smells, delicious pears, shade, and a sturdiness for years. We, in turn, had given it sounds of laughter and joy, receiving the fruit with squeals of delight, playing many years around it throughout our young days. The time came to move on…and the tree had loved us in the way it could and we had loved it back.
Thoughts are in my mind…and I can carry them wherever I go, with no fear of them not having a place. For they are in my heart and I think of them often.
Everything I Never Wanted…
July 24, 2015
Broken little family
in my youngest years
I searched in vain
to remedy to take
away the fears
The thoughts were vague
intents obscure
the words were
sweet the trap allured
First one his one
they beckoned me
I followed blindly
I could not see
Too late too late
my soul was tossed
The years remain
and all is lost
Tho’ one has gone
to depths unknown
now three remain
no four are known
Yet eight is the number
that breathes for now
my heart longs to slumber
please lay me down
Copyright 2015 –R Webb
Thoughts for myself…
October 21, 2013
Oh how I wish I
Could pull the tender
Young blooms of
Bitterness from my
Soul as easily as
The ones that
Sprout anew
From the prickly bush
Outside my windows
Soft and pliable
In one’s hand
They easily leave
Their home
Never to become
Stiff and unwelcoming
To outsiders
Yet protective of its own
Right down to the
Brown dead leaves
That cling
Stabbing even in their death
May God reach out and pluck them as He is the true Master Gardener.
copyright 2013
