when I am broken, I remember what wholeness is…
Getting Up Again
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Monthly Archives: May 2020
Finding Morning
Hello, Morning its been a while since
you and I sat down -to share a hug or a smile.
these days don’t come easy, there’s been lots of soul-washing -feelings,
feels like latter rain of latter days
cloud gatherings that tell me how God dips my coffee-made soul deep down in honey
then I’m not alone and the bees are there to pollinate my tears into honeycombs
that tells me all my fears have drawn to the surface something that’s always been eroding
and finally when there’s nothing left to save
my soul and I find morning
kindness sister
One Hundred and Twenty Versions Of My Come Back Stance :
I knew I still had some come back left in me,
I wanna be off the radar doing good
so good for the first time in a long time my socks match
with the those pink and green toes in the morning
doing so good, I’d wake up satisfied in
my own black coffee- they’d be singing folktales to me
hold my smile in the middle of adversity
braid my hair in milk and honey
with a splash of turmeric and cardamom
because there’s nothing better than that
golden life flowing, down on the inside
being the best of me
reaching for the rest of me
…~kindness sister
Where There’s Hope ~There’s Possibility, That’s where you’ll find me:
after the madness of darkness
after the portals of shattered things
such as tattered lint falling, slowly into spring
hope is a mother’s touch, unable to hold her child
undefined hope has room to grow
knowing the love of a mother, her love is still there
Hope like a wounded bird, pecking its’ way, untapped,
through the holes of despair, pecking at daylight
pecking at the seam
breaking through norms of dying
undue the burden, somethings gotta give
cracking at the yoke- wide with wings,
feeling high in the moment , a gush, a rescued touch
the ebb of love-ones’ emerge
believing, even when I’m weak
there’s possibility~ kindness sister
Living On Kindness
The Voice Of Kindness speaks with compassion because kindness cares.
In the Ring Of Isolation: I Got Crazy-Stupid faith: Aka: I keep Getting Up
When sadness comes for me
I’ll be dancing my way in poetry
down bean pods in limbo, breaking my awkward pause
to feel the thud, to crawl when I can’t walk
sling, by sling, thump by thump
I’m alive
wrestling madness private eye ,
my swing is stupid,
my right hook, even I didn’t see it coming
I wade in stillness,
I wade in crazy-stupid faith
I wade and breathe in the music,
hold-up the cotton- candy sky
mint and saffron in all my daze
teleport sadness, inside
drizzle refreshing, dash, pip, bop and blow
ring the bell, shake and shake
I’m ready this time.
~Kindness
“You And Me: We Are God’s Heartbeat”
(digging through my family photos- my son at One years’ old, he’s 9 now)
deeply grieving, over the way it was,
church on a Sunday,
pub’s in the afternoon,
baptizing Jesus, and the things we lost
temporary-people, cut down in fields of green
temporary-socials, satisfied the touch of needs
I hate to say this..
nothing remains, nothing is promised
save the pain for a little heartache
save the tears in old used coffee cans
save the joy but let spill
over worries, even kill
over problems, gone down hill
over certain unmarked graves
waiting for the day
waiting for the new normal
if it ain’t coming,
I’m running to Jesus
finding that empty grave
lay down upon it,
be the stone that rolled away
be the cloth where is his head lay
be the dove that Christ had come
be the one that spreads good news
be the spirit after flesh
be a witness, be the hope of a small child
be the one who thrives in uncertain times
be the one who’s light still shines
there is, unconquerable hope
and it lives in you & me ~kindness sister Krissy
Chipping At The Window Of Goodbye: NaPoWriMo
(me -Krissy as a kid- gotta get back to my 3rd grade stories one of these days, photo taken in 1989)
I wanna live like love’s never dying
never saying goodbye, see ya later or next time, for now our goodbye’s are getting cold
there’s a lake camping out on my eyelids – east winds, blowing
southbound and strong, I remember the smell of old writings,
I remember fear eating away at the day -we’d say goodbye,
I’m still looking for the sun in Indiana
still growing-up to be a grow up – one of these ole’ days
still love to taste dark cherries of summer
still love to daze into the dawn of the open-sun
still love to feel small against river’s rapid drums
and know home-home is never done.
kindness sister Krissy…(one day at a time)
A Poet's Vision 