blogging · creativity · poetry · travel · writing

Seeker

Travel is the ask,
so many questions – answers
just fragments of truth.

(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge:  answer / question.)

disability · ME/ CFS · mental-health · poetry · writing

The Same, But Broken

Fragility blindsides –
I am woman.
Strong.

Courageous, some say –
a sentiment beyond my reach
having not chosen this state.

Fragility is pervasive –
body reduced to miniscule fibers,
stretched, torn, bordering
on broken.

Overwhelmed, mind obsesses –
will neither organize
nor let go…

If only I could let go…

I am weeping
and not

Weeping from frustration –
immediate impossibility –

Unwilling to weep for totality of loss –
it is beyond me.

Illness is regarded
with disgust,
indifference,
repulsion

There is no equality for the disabled

And, yet…

Rawness –
stripped of busy-ness –
renders me as any other

A soul yearning for a meaningful existence.

Maybe illness is the great equalizer.

(The Same, But Broken was first written in December of 2014, when I suffered from severe Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.  It is revised here.)

dreams · health

Changing Direction

This path I walk is not my own;
it’s paved with genetic markers,
familial dysfunction, and ancestral angst.
Can you see them walking with me?
Those whose lives were cut too short –
the addicts, the tortured, the diseased-
none of us free- ensconced in blame.

If you walk with me,
I’ll help you carry your burden
and you can support me with mine.

I stand at the intersection
of broken dreams and hope for tomorrow
and in my altered state of awareness
see the commonality of our striving,
understand the patterns that divide,
and grasp the illusion of injustice
that denigrates our interconnectedness.

If you walk with me,
I’ll help you carry your burden
and you can support me with mine.

I stop and wait for an opening
to share this revelation
of underlying harmonious intent,
but the whir of societal traffic
complicates communication,
and I can find no voice to cut
through the din of the dead.

If you walk with me,
I’ll help you carry your burden
and you can support me with mine.

I turn the corner on my old life,
detach with loving sorrow
from a road that never served me,
a direction wrought only with pain.
Tiny arms await me on this open road,
eyes wide with wonder and possibility.
There is joy to be found along the way.

If you walk with me,
I’ll share this new adventure
and together, we’ll have much to gain.

dreams

Today is a Good Day to Die

A satiny bed awaits me,
pearly white, with a prop for my head,
indigo drapes offering privacy,
comfort for eternal rest.

Today is a good day to die.

Yet, I wander,
in search of self,
I travel the highways,
seek respite in rest stops
along the way –
Tim Hortons,
souvenir t-shirts,
no place to settle.

I look for myself
in overpriced
boutiques
promising originality,
reeking of pretentiousness,
I remain restless.

It is only in your distress,
as I pause to lend a hand-
help you fight your demons-
that I forget my own condition.

It is only in selflessness
that I am whole.

Today is a good day to die.