Alive

“I like birthdays. I like them more for other people, but I’m glad we celebrate them. At the heart of it is the opportunity to tell someone “I’m glad that you were born,” which is also to say “I’m glad that you’re alive.” Those are powerful statements. The world would be a different place if we lived that way, if we said and expressed these things, more than once a year.”

– jamie tworkowski If You Feel Too Much (TWLOHA)

The day the war began

The day the war began

Seasons framed in reflection
Of my bedroom window view
In the mirror
I see me in all my bedding
Hair awry, face unkempt
Illuminated by the backdrop
Of the cherry tree
Telling me how long 
I’ve been sitting here
Since the day the war began
Lying wounded and shell-shocked
Months ago on my pillow
Craning my neck hesitantly
To peer out at the cherry picking
Birds up high buried in leaves
Listening to little voices squeal
Mouths filled with red juices
Delighting eating low hanging fruit.
More recently sitting strong, erect
Arms opening wide the curtains
To feast my eyes 
On the kaleidoscope 
Of fiery leaves still attached
And glowing in the light
As the sun hurriedly sets.
The coolness of the window
View icy grey branches 
Dew upon the buds 
That wait in vain for the frozen
Months to pass.
Teased endlessly by a
Weak winter sun bare lee
Shining on their old
And twisted frame
I feel much the same.
Old inside but 
Growing wise to not
Allow the inevitable
Changing seasons to
Dominate my own
Mind’s window view
Instead, I rely upon You.
To fight my battles with the
Endless foes apply the balm 
to shrapnel woes
Batten down the mind’s 
Battle cry and send the 
Warning salvo’s high.
Relent, relent, face me till
All life is spent.

Fallout Shelter

Caught a glimpse of your soul

And crawled inside
A safe place to hide
Kept fed, warm and dry
Loved and faithful abide
Picked up out of the rain
Time and again
Cocooned from outside
Another lost one to find
Where comforts are few
Instead, I’d always find you.
Inside I heard your heart beating
The words repeating
Both begging that old ways
Be dead and gone
We felt nothing wrong.