On a good day, parenting will test the integrity of your character. On a bad day, parenting will test your will to live. Parenting children with trauma histories will cause you to test the integrity of everything and everyone you thought you knew, for the rest of your life.
~J. Skrobisz

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Just Breathe

Original poetry by author of this blog. Copyright laws apply

JUST BREATHE
Bits.
A synapse of the neural net,
Capturing a moment and recording it
For no one to see
None to know.
It is a piece of the puzzle
That remains locked away
In the mind of only one
Until it is revealed.

Risk.
Share the fragments of the mind.
Unwanted, cast off, ignored
For all to see
All to know.
The pieces of the puzzle
Shown like a child reveals
A pill bug in her hand.

Wretched.
The hands of time turn
Though time will never move.
Space is the vastest piece
Of this puzzle to riddle through.
It is known by all
Yet never seen.
Electric charge of a thunderhead
Zapping ions to and fro,
An exchange that changes nothing.




Stand.
The wind blows past my face
Shut my eyes and listen.
A warm embrace that cools,
Peace settles on the surface of my skin.
I squeeze my eyes that it might linger
The gentle caress lasts just one moment
Never long enough
To satisfy my thirst
For hope.

Sleep.
Close the eyes, shut out the noise.
Eyes hear, ears feel, body sees.
Racing synapses chase bits
Sorting pieces, fragments of a day
Lightning fires electrical impulses
In the subconscious.
Oh fiendish fire that burns
Without heat, oxygen or fuel.
Dreams are endless puzzles.
Chase them.
Chase forever.




Dream.
Dead, a willow's branches
Stretch toward the stormy sky.
Stop. Breathe in the moment.
Drink the lifeless energy from the
Images of decaying fibers.
Puzzle this piece,
This tree yet lives;
Lightning strikes the core.
That the master may carve out beauty
In the brokenness.

Life.
An ascending stairway of love
Lighting a path toward the sky.
I take the first step
Followed by another.
Beckoned upward by hope,
Lights guide my way
Love blows across my face
On stormy winds of desperation.
I see all
None see me.
Silent voices speak pieces of the puzzle.

Capture.
A still image
Of children laughing,
gaiety rings in the air.
No one is there.
It can not be.
It is a dream of peace
I stand upon, begging life
To dream up a bit of risk for me.

Breathe.
The air escapes my lungs
With no path for return.
Lights fade out.
The synapses in the neural net
Cease their lightning ions
Skipping from hemisphere to hemisphere.
The eyes no longer hear,
The ears stop feeling,
The body can not see.

Piece of peace find me
That I might breathe through this pain;
That the precious bits I capture
Might be shared,
That all might know
And all may see
This puzzle inside of me.
A chastising peace that escapes
Unless I stand or dream or risk
To record the bits of life I breathe
On lightning synapses of ions
Dancing music in my mind:
Love is the only message
I want to carry home.

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