A New Year And New Door

30 Tuesday Dec 2025

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A New Year, or so they say,

A new start, the passing of one day,

Which allows us to close a door.

I am thinking of who I want to be,

If believing a clean slate can set one free.

What didn’t serve well in 2025?

Or, didn’t serve my entire life?

And how does one change the habits

Of who we are, even bad,

The hobgoblins of our past,

Which lead to regrets, sadness.

What is it blocking joy;

What foils our better self,

Cedes territory to the evil elves

Sent to destroy happiness?

If age, and wisdom, could be a shield,

And we’d yield no more to influences,

What could rebirth truly be?

I’m asking you to envision

What I cannot see. Or, haven’t seen,

A shiny new door, clearly marked ‘free.’

Traditions

28 Sunday Dec 2025

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The traditions remain:

An old family tree,

The making

Of Gingerbread houses,

Wreaths, and lights,

A Christmas fondue–

And I ask,

Will they get me through this?

On the other side of the shadows,

Is my shadow,

I take that by faith, too.

He said, I can’t find my purpose.

I wondered out loud,

Is there a purpose?

Besides surviving, that is.

And the smaller things we cling to,

Making them bigger things–

An outsized portion of our existence

Is in the minutes, winding down.

To wallow in the shadows

Is, perhaps, a luxury.

It comes to this:

At first, we know everything,

Then, nothing,

And at last,

We are okay

With our lack.

Those Who Do Not Leave

27 Saturday Dec 2025

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Everyday I carry him inside me,

And beside me, like the robin

Who should have gone south,

But is dangerously late to leave,

Eating the berries from my tree.

I carry him to the sink in the morning,

And in the mirror, I see his crease

Above my nose, or the one wrinkle

By my right eye, under his hair.

I carry his burden of wanting to know–

Too much, at the risk of happiness,

Even expecting something bad

All the time, in the midst of good.

What excuse do I have, except being his daughter,

To carry such personal things?

And yet, to lay him down, to walk away

Into the lightness of my own shadow;

I do not want to leave his burden alone.

So, I will stay here and hope

The winter is not too hard,

And that the days, growing longer,

Are not ungenerous to one lost,

Scavenging forgotten berries.

Introduction

26 Sunday Oct 2025

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What is love,

But an unanswered question?

I do love the way

You listened to that note—

It hung in our mutual air

A moment we shared.

As if a matter of life

And death

Because it was that matter

Which consumed us.

And then gone.

I do love the way

You go

Missing.

——

I know love comes broken,

But it took breaking

To teach me.

——

Perhaps, my first love was longing.

And in that desperate hope

Came everything.

—-

And then there was love.

—

And then there was loneliness.

—

And then there was complete despair.

—

And then there was you.

—

Still breaking me.

Because such intensity can only consume.

Thirst and drink, but the glass is always leaking.

Reach and reach, but the hands seem empty.

—

And then there were your arms.

—

And then there was loneliness.

—

My time is winding down to tell you

About being human.

Such a world!

Born into a desperate flesh

And nascent blood.

Will we learn too late

How precious it was to suffer?

—

I would like to introduce myself:

Even as I mourn myself.

Confessions

27 Friday Jun 2025

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Would you like to hear a secret,

No obfuscation, no vagary,

A secret, that cuts so deep

It wounds you,

It unwinds you,

Because it is you,

But you want to know,

Yes, know,

It is also in me,

That we carry it together,

In shame, and in sorrow, sure–

But let’s be honest,

There is also pride–

I mean,

We have done what we had to do,

You and me,

Have we not,

And what blame is there

In surviving?

AI Will Not Replace Me

31 Saturday May 2025

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I cannot be imitated,

Nor improved.

AI will not replace me.

I will speak my suffering

Into this world,

As only humans can suffer.

To know death

Is to fear it.

I cannot be reprogrammed,

Nor replaced.

To be human is to end.

We cannot see them again,

Nor touch them.

You cannot imitate

Feeling that alone,

That frightened

Someone else will die.

Somewhere In Saguaro

10 Sunday Nov 2024

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I thought, If all paths lead to God,

why should I care

about a right, or wrong, path?

I picked up a stone

and carried it four miles

through the desert to lay it down

at the broken, stone house.

But I took a wrong path, and laid it down

in an unmarked ravine, instead.