Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Walls and Threads

Restless and wondering,
With an achy soul,
I want what I can not yet have,
Longing- fills me with ashes.

A creation we invented of minutes and hours,
When in truth, it is made of words,
Kisses, and conversations.

Time is about breathing,
and laughing, and weeping,
but mostly,
It is about love.

A Love I can not always touch,
A Love I can not hold at will,
A Love I watch weakened by losses,
A Love I crave with all my being.

The sunsets come and go,
The flowers bloom with fierce glory,
My blueberries hang heavy on the branch,
And I seek to dull the ache in my heart.

Why?   Why not embrace the pain?
Why not let it motivate?
Why not let ache and desire push me...
Rather than drag me like a dead worm on a hook?

While in labor, I did not sleep.
The sheer unadulterated agony made me vigilant.
Nothing would stop me from holding my baby,
Nothing less than death, at least.

Life, Death, Pain, Love-
These are the walls of our reality.
Kisses, tears, laughter, friendship,
These are the threads that cover our being.

Cover me in kisses, and tears.
Wrap me up in your friendship and laughter.
Help me utilize the fire of my pain,
As I dump these ashes and tend to my soul.

-Cora Blue

Thursday, January 28, 2016


Today was an odd day-
After an ice storm, and a quick trip to Savannah for an expo- and meeting wonderful people and having a marvelous time...this afternoon I found my self weeping in the car all the way home from work.
I think they call it "let-down".
I am on the verge of doing big things with the company I work for.  I am about to buy MY own home in the middle of a beautiful forest.  My daughter has been very sick- but I think we have it narrowed down to gallstones and kidney stones (poor kid- both at once!).   My divorce was final in December.  My mom's birthday is on Monday and the ache I have over missing her is really beyond description.
I have multiple story ideas for children's books bubbling and shouting for attention in the back of my mind, but all I can focus on now is writing contracts for new clients, and working with corporations for their business, and trying to come up with an extra 5k for closing on my home.  (Money is coming, but tied up in the courts at the moment.)
Add to this my heart...someone I love beyond description is under an enormous burden.  I want to swoop in and fix what can not be fixed, heal what can not be healed, and add love to a heart over come with grief.   His heart is like a sponge filled to the brim- and it just can't absorb too much more.
My love for him is like nothing I've experienced in a long long time.

My life is kind of like a central train station.   Engines and carts are being moved into place, but nothing is coupled yet.  I have at least 12 things which need to connect- and they are coming together, but for now- all feels like chaos.
I don't like chaos.
I remember reading about it in Paradise Lost- "Chaos rules a realm of confusion on the edges of Hell"
Yes...that is the place where I reside at the moment.  It is as unlovely as it sounds.
Sigh.   The smart thing to do is keep my head down, like the work horse I am, and keep moving forward.  Plowing the field until all that needs to be done is completed.   The desire of my heart is to skip out to the beach for the next 12 days and sit in the sun- and at this time of year it's pretty cold unless I am going to florida.   Or the caribbean.  (my imagination is getting expensive!)
Or just stop.
Being still is not easy for me...
Which is why I have some sneaking suspicion that is what I am actually supposed to be doing.
Kind of like the end of a yoga class- where we all lay down on our mats and breathe.   No matter what poses we did, or how hard they were for me to conform to...that last 5 to 10 minutes of being still is the biggest challenge.   And the best reward.
Everything is going to work out.   The money will come.   The house will be mine.   I will be on 5 acres of heaven in a place no one can find me unless I give them the address.   I will pause, and unpack, and shift my mindset to my books- but right now I am on a pitiful boat carrying me across the sea of confusion and near the edge of hell- white knuckling my journey all the way.   What I should be doing is laying down, and remembering how to breathe.  
Why is that so difficult?
My daughter texts me every now and then and simply says..."Breathe mom...breathe."

She knows me so well.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Yellow StarThistle...part II

Yet, as she towered over me...smirking, all I could say was,

"But he didn't break my heart.   He Marked it.   He changed it.  He reminded me of how it feels to be loved".
She immediately diminished in size by a third.
Eye to eye- facing what was really a demon of sorts which I had left to grow and mature on the manure of regret and sorrow in the fields of my own soul- I realized I could manage this weed.

I asked her, "Does anyone walk away from an encounter with the divine and remain unchanged?"
She shuddered.   I asked, "What is the first thing the divine always says?  FEAR NOT!".
Why?   Because they are too wonderful, too profound, too glorious for us to understand without collapsing with fear."

The weed began to turn brown and shrivel.

By now- I am towering over her...shouting "How dare you try to corrupt something made only from love?   How dare I allow you to take root and suffocate the flowers in my garden heart?!  How dare you tarnish my memories of him with your slander and lies?!!!"

She could barely whisper, "What about your pain?  What about your loss?  What about the void he left in your life?"

"GRIEF!"  I shouted, "Is a LOVE word!"

With a shudder and a tiny whimper the prickly monster fully wilted and collapsed.

Weeds are interesting creatures.   Their roots can go deep and lie dormant for a very long time.  Roots have to be pulled up and burned.   Even part of one left behind can cause problems in the future.   Keeping a vigilant eye on the garden is necessary even when it appears there is nothing untoward lurking in the ground.  


That beautiful man peeks in on me every now and again.  His love is real and so is his beauty.  When I see him or hear him he still makes my heart flutter.   I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame, except this flame will not burn me...it simply bathes me in light and reflects his goodness and love.

Yes, my heart was marked, and he is not capable of breaking it.
His graceful ways and thoughtful words, in the midst of his own burdens and struggles, are fresh air and sunshine to my heart.
To paraphrase an old movie, "He makes me want to be a better woman".

Which is precisely what one would expect in an encounter with the divine.


David...by Michelangelo

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Yellow StarThistle

He was simply the most beautiful creature I had ever heard or seen in my life. I can compare him to none I have met before or since.
His voice reached the interior of my soul first. It was perfect. No accent, no nasal quality, but pure, manly deep but not overly so, like a perfect merlot- full, mellow, with notes of music and romance. The mere sound of his voice wrapped and filled me with comfort and bliss.
His skin was flawless, ringlets behaved in his precisely cut hairstyle, his Italian nose was both classic and perfection, teeth straight and bright, a smile so warm and welcoming one couldn’t help but feel taken in by it. The dimple I discovered when he smiled and the closely trimmed beard which was beginning to turn white made me come completely undone. He was absolutely divine.
Acutely aware of his infectious charm he perched behind a casual façade- as if to dim some of his own brilliance.  His self confidence was mesmerising. 
He carried it within him the way a mother carries a new babe in the womb- surely and deeply. His glow was undeniable.
He didn’t walk into a room like other people do, he was fluid, I would almost say he glided. There was nothing ungainly about his steps or his movements. Everything he did, from opening the car door, to washing a dish, to cooking a turkey was done in such a way I would have sworn it had been rehearsed. Never once did I see him flustered or shaken. Even in dealing with a hysterical woman, he was calm and unruffled. He was ever as tranquil and beautiful as a still lake at sunrise.
I loved him urgently, swiftly, and completely, though I was warned, “That man will break your heart.” I paid no heed, but a minuscule seed of worry was sown into my inner core and quickly forgotten. A seed, much like a weed, which began to take deep roots before I ever noticed its tiny shoots on the surface of my garden heart.  That weed much like kudzu, was impossible and fruit less.
He made love to me like I was the only woman in existence. I felt I was his angel, yet knowing full well I am much closer to the type described as Hobbit folk. The passion, the laughter, the shared stories and the way we reveled in each other was sublime. Our time together was too short. One of us was always having to leave, and the distance between us was bothersome and painful to me, but he took it all in stride. I took his self-confidence to mean he was sure of us, of our connection. Our interactions were not casual...though there were languid moments of delight, and sparkling ones of laughter.
His gifts were utterly unique, thoughtful, and timely. A jar with favorite chocolates and hand written love notes for my birthday.  Flowers for my arrival- pink, my favorite color rose. Music filled his house. Beloved tunes of his previous life, and new ones picked out for me. Dancing for no reason-except to dance and hold the person you love closely. Sunsets and moonlight and shooting stars were ours, and nothing was impossible when I was with him. No harm would come to me while in his embrace.
And then…
In one fell swoop I lost him. My divine being withdrew his wings and pulled away swiftly…almost as swiftly as I fell in love with him. A responsibility as big as keeping the moon in orbit fell upon him; and while fearless in his new role, he was unable to hold on to me. With grace, yet determination, he cut the tie he’d bound me with- never suspecting he’d also severed the cords of my heart.
I bled profusely. I wept like a little lost child in the middle of dirty Calcutta. I crumpled and fell to the ground like a used Kleenex, and my world was filled with searing pain. I searched my heart. Was there no way I could assist? No use for me in his new role? Couldn’t I remain attached as a cheerleader, or a bringer of dinner or flowers?
As I looked inwards- there it was, the Weed. 
It was so big and thorny and overgrown there was room for little else. It grew with rapid speed and complete destruction without the divine to keep it in check. It stood tall and stared back at me when I faced it. Internally she towered over me. She was as frightening as my lover had been beautiful. 
Without eyes and tilting her yellow head somehow she smirked at me.
Her words echoed in my gut, “That man will break your heart”.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Dante's Inferno- LOVE

Love is more unitive than knowledge in seeking the THING, not the THINGS reason; :Love is bent on finding a real union- though this can only be constituted by knowledge.

Love wants to find the thing that is tactile.  Love wants what it can put it's heart, and hands, and lips on.  It wants warm flesh, and a knowing smile, and soft sheets, passion, and laughter when all is said and done.

According to Dante-
The effects of love are enumerated as "such":
*  Reciprocal abiding - together by choice
* Mutua Inhaesio-  mutual indwelling
* Of lover and beloved together
* a transplant- "out of the self into the other"
* ardent cherishing of each other- with zeal  (was Dante a woman or what?)
* a melting- liquefaction- so that the heart is unfrozen and open to be entered
*  a longing in absence
* heat in pursuit- fervor
*  AND enjoyment in presence..fruitito

Then...what of fear?
And honestly, this is where I have fallen short...fallen short of fear because there was never any need- and yet, now there is.

"Without the discipline of service and obedience, fear remains formal and does not spread over the whole known reality of existence."

As a kid I knew all too well if mom or dad threatened corporal punishment it would come surely and swiftly.   I abided by my word out of the fear of what they would do to me if I lied.   Being untruthful was a magnificent sin in my little world.
Once I expanded beyond my little world- I realised that lies were something people did every day- with no remorse- and no consequences.

Yet- as I age- I fall back into the undeniable value of trust, and truth, and being who I say I am.   Even if I admit to being faulty, or broken, or  blonde (flighty) at times.

In this moment I am alone.   There is no one to call (with more authority than me) if I end up in a rough place.   My kids, my siblings- my friends, all still look to me.   I am Mom, and the Eldest, and a pillar to most people who know me.

In love...what I long for and want to offer- is shelter.

Not necessarily a place to lay your head (though that would be fine)- but a place to lay your heart.  A place, like a manger, where the most important being in the world (to me) can rest his sleepy head.
And wake up feeling new- and strong- and awesome.
Mostly because my Love found it's union- and my wisdom could attest to my loves finding.