The Woman On The Bus

Her deep set eyes into them I stared,
She was physically present, yet emotionally not there.
I wondered would I have seen more if I stared long enough,
To get the story of this woman, I sat next to on the bus.
Life seemed to live on and around her not within her,
To this stranger who watched her for minutes did it even occur?
Perhaps it was a bad day, a bad month, or even a bad year,
Perhaps she was just in deep thought, and didn’t notice her stop was near.
So much history behind her telling eyes,
I knew with certainty earlier that day, she must of cried.

Advertisements

To Better Days…

Dear You ,

As far as hard times go, they do come and they do go. It’s often before that we do not see it heading straight for us, it’s during that we become worn and depleted, but it’s the after that we see and learn. There’s a strange beauty in being vulnerable and falling on our knees that enables our heart to grow and know the gravity of what it feels like to love in life, to lose, yet keeps us emotionally connected to the world, to ourselves, and to those around; humanizing us. Then in hindsight, we take a deep breath and realise, we are better and stronger for it. Being in a good place and feeling ok again will steadily but surely follow. These stepping-stones towards where you want to be will eventually lead you there. Just know that it’s during that you have so many who love and care for you that are cheering for your every victory, your every happiness, and each step you take.

I hope your today will be better than yesterday, that tomorrow be even better than today. May sunrises and sunsets cast over your heart making every day beautiful from start to finish…

Sincerely,
Hope

29

29 I turn,
Motionless I stand.
I walked so fast, turns out, I actually ran.
With a chance to breathe as I reflect back,
I lived in an uncontrolled pace of not holding back.
Took care as I did, did what I needed to do,
To sleep better at night knowing I did not fail you.
With life and love testing me from all directions,
This fight I fought, I tried my best upon close inspection.
Yet still feeling like it wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t enough,
Compensating by doing my all, when the going gets tough.
One can say I was in a state of auto pilot,
Missing Spring flower blooms of rich beautiful violets.
With my self in question and my life in tow,
Attempting to compartmentalized the things I do not know.
Sorting it all out like a neat Bento box,
Secretly feeling good to know I can be his and her ‘Rock’
Aware I’m not of the strongest, strength builds with time,
Experiences not always as sweet, sour like limes.
It’s in those real moments, I can say what its like to taste,
A life fully lived without a moment’s waste.
Bittersweet moments I vividly recall more so,
For those are the times, gifting me the lessons I did not know.
Living in those moments I learn at best,
Simply there to tell me I can pass Life’s hardest test(s).

Faulty By Design

Aren’t we all philosophical versions of each other?
Living what we learn off one another?
Learning the hard way, learning first hand,
Together, living the definition of taking a stand.
Applying lessons as we humanly evolve,
In great attempt of a peaceful resolve.
No shortcuts, just detours, longing for the perfect escape,
Within the maze that is life we can no longer negate,
Only in truth can we all possibly relate.
In love I feel, in life I live,
Withstanding pain, letting go, and how to forgive.
Moving forth with resilience without wanting to relive;
Those days we were broken by those who were neither whole,
In our faith they took, in our hearts they stole.
When push comes to shove, it’s in me to choose as I learn,
All the things I did because I simply yearn,
The love I feel as I gave it to you,
In hopes you know that I hunger for it too.
As much, and as intensely as we all do.
Love with everything you’ve got inside,
For that is the birth place where love resides.
Life with the absence of love is as empty can be,
For every heart unfilled, there is no you, there is no me.

Eighteen

Eighteen years ago, little did I know,
A bundle in pink, would soon come to grow,
Into the beauty of a woman, with her strength she shows.
With perfect imperfection she carries in stride,
“That’s my baby niece”, I say with the utmost pride.
…With high hopes I see her soar,
Wishing her everything incredible and so much more.

xoxo with all my heart,
Aunty Terry

Two of The Same

Why is that everyone is broken?
Broken by one split in two?
“No man is an island” Could that possibly be all true?
Feeling like they say: “Bad things come in three.”
“When it rain, it pours” I’m on my knees.
No where to turn, to just be free.
Would somebody write a book on how to do this please?
Why does it always end letting you go, so I could be me?
Why can’t we happily unite together and just be?
Loving you, loving me,
With beautiful risk followed by harmony.
Instead we part, never saying the things we need to say.
Regretting our own reality for another day…
Convinced that it’s too late, without a chance,
Unaware I’m the only reason of why ‘I can’t.’
It comes down to not even being one.
A million times over, feeling we don’t amount to none.
Feed my soul, nurture my heart,
Ideally living in full is where it should start.
Yet living and learning is the cold hard fact,
You reluctantly choose to try, ultimately learning from it’s full impact.
With little faith and little hope,
Treading by with little means to cope.
Wake up today, with the promise of tomorrow,
Live in the moment, leave behind all your sorrows.
Believe in you, believe in me,
Together we can exist, only to see…
We are just mirror images of you and me.

Hindsight

Like another cliché, I get tired of hearing,
Living in a false sense of faith, secretly fearing.
Much of the typical becomes the living norm,
Display of ease, inside, enduring their own calm storm.
With filters on and a poker face,
We live as though all that was bad can be simply erased.
Not “Facing the music,” engulfed in lyrics,
Drowned out by noise, until we’ve no choice but to hear it.
The sound of our hearts surrounded by four closing walls,
Uncomfortably stagnant, until we surrender to the fall.
Listen close, the beauty of silence,
No denying the sound of truth, when you least want to be compliant.
Only on our knees, do we see it from another perspective…
There’s something to be said about introspection.
Having the peace of mind of knowing better,
Granting you personal inventory to write life’s most beautiful letter…
Dear Life, little did I know it was all a “Blessing in disguise,”
You were right – After the perfect storm, awaits clear blue skies.