To Each Their Own

There is a strength not born from adversity,

or by gender,

or by any other means,

except endowment.

It stands and keeps standing,

Without a second thought,

Of how near others are.

The strength is housed,

In many forms,

Not always the book smart,

the eloquent,

the fine featured, or

the able-bodied.

But comes in a frail, spindly package,

as often as a burly, stout one.

This strength is the wind in the sails of others,

And if the hand on the helm is true,

The rudder is sure to chart a course,

For the weaker to head in the right direction.


There is a weakness, not born from coddling,

Or by gender,

Or by any other means,

Except endowment.

It trails and keeps trailing,

with no other thought,

then to stay near the strength.

The weakness is housed,

in many forms.

Not always the feeble-minded,

the soft spoken,

the careful,

the uncoordinated,

but comes in a muscle-bound confident package,

as often as a shaking, unsteady one.

This weakness is a blanket on the shoulders of the strong,

covering and weighing them down, so that they don’t

rise above their humanity and are lost.


The strong and the weak.

to each their own place.

True Love – A Poem

I believe that you will leave,
Because that’s what I expect,
That’s what I think you’ll do,
Because I’m not all I thought I was,
And I haven’t done what I promised I would.
I rush to make amends because,
Soon you’ll leave,
if I don’t give you hope that one day,
I’ll get it.
But then I stop in my tracks,
Where am I going with this?
You’re not going anywhere are you?
You never have and never will,
So I’m putting aside that fear.
I’m changing what I believe,
and resting in your nearness.

The Vaccine First Dose

I had shot one about ten hours ago.
All I can think of is,
I have a foreign substance coursing through
my healthy body,
causing it to launch a full blown,
response protocol.
Not to a virus that can replicate itself,
but to a protein,
that doesn’t belong;
An article of clothing,
that COVID wears,
which my immune system,
will sniff out and know whose it is,
if that intruder ever shows up
at the doorstep of my collection of cells.
I feel slightly like I have betrayed,
my body’s trust,
but then again I’ve done that many times;
eating the wrong foods,
too much food,
Indulgences to soothe the mind,
robbing from the heart,
the muscles.
I find myself making a vow,
to take care of this mortal dwelling, to mistreat it no more.

Don’t Go There

Don’t think too much or too deeply,
Don’t.
Some pools are meant to not be stirred,
to remain crystal clear;
the muck where it belongs,
settled, bound up, resting in darkness.
Certainly don’t drop a rock hard truth,
Or a heavy reality,
Into the calm waters.
Don’t.
The serenity of the right place for everything,
is at stake.
Don’t even blow a wish on it’s surface,
Don’t.
The glare of the desire, will shine down,
and show the dismal mud,
it’s desolation stark and sure.
Guard yourself, if you value peace , no turmoil.
Don’t.

Daily Destination – A Poem

So it is,
Is another day,
Daily spent free,
Freely to step,
Stepping any way,
Wayward on some,
Sometimes path straight,
Straightened by hope,
Hopeless for today,
Today is not life,
Lifelong destiny,
Destined for higher,
Heights not seen,
Seeing in now,
Now clouds the view,
Viewing with soul eyes,
Eying beyond fills,
Filled up with belief,
Believing in time,
Timely all days,
Dayspring to see.

Waging War- A Poem

You see me and think I am strong,
a warrior,
That I stand and inspire you,
to fight on,
as though I am wearing,
a special armor.
You don’t see that I am only wearing,
courage and necessity,
like rags laid upon my back.
I march on, not in certain victory,
but the certain finality,
of the day the truth is known.
What will you think of me then?


This poem is in honor of International Women’s Day and all women who continue on even when they don’t feel capable or equipped for what the day demands.

Rose Colored Words

I’m not in the mood for gimmicks,
Is it age or am I just not agreeable,
to the cushiness of nice thoughts,
pleasant feel good phrases,
words, ideas, even songs,
that tell me, all it takes is one smile,
to light another and everyone will feel better?
Better not try that on me.
It seems so far away,
from my soul,
the place inside that knows,
it is going to take more than an expression of peace,
to be at peace.
Can we get past being afraid to tell the truth,
tell it like it is and
still be okay?

Go With the Flow – A Poem

Air is free,
Freedom to breath,
Breathing to live,
Living decided,
Decision to think,
Thinking for better,
Best way is sure,
Surety sealed,
Seal for strength,
Strong in unity,
United to act,
Action of truth,
Truthful is clear,
Clarity simple,
Simplicity weightless,
Weighed without pain,
Painful to no one,
Oneness not lonely.


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Disintegrated Whole – A Poem

I am scattered about,

with the cat’s toys, the dirty laundry,

the crumbs on the countertops and under the table,

In the midst of halfhearted kisses,

Between unfinished sentences,

Thoughts interrupted,

Abandoned to ‘whatever’.

In puzzle pieces,

of not all the same picture,

The veterinarian,

The farmer’s wife with lots of kids,

And animals, a horse maybe, chickens.

The surgeon since dissecting animals in lab was second nature,

The missionary to inner-city kids,

Speaking out what “Jesus loves you” really means,

A recluse living in a woodland tiny house with a garden and solar power.

I am in pieces,

divided up among real life.


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