With thoughts and love I
Revisit with empathy
Dear friend’s expressions
If I really could
I would raise high scaffolding
To lift heavy hearts
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
With thoughts and love I
Revisit with empathy
Dear friend’s expressions
If I really could
I would raise high scaffolding
To lift heavy hearts
She’s dizzy, weak
She’s heavily wounded
Yet miraculously she stands
On shaking legs
Spitting bitter iron
Coughing, dazed, stumbling
With broken bones
Into arms of those who came
To her when she needed them most
The wet sand that cushioned her
When she fell so far
The sun that hid from her
In the cobblestone square
The moon that couldn’t find her
Sitting at her warm table
The snow that didn’t touch her
But saw her through that window
And the friend who could read her
Who could hear and see right through her
May be the only ones who really
Know her stories
Maybe that’s enough
After all, as this new day ends
She’s still standing
December 5, 2024
12:15 a.m.
A Daydream Aggressive
A Daydream Decisive
A Daydream Gently Ending
Sometimes it all leaves
Blank sheets reach the horizon
Lungs now mere machines
Organs move onward
Redundant automatons
I have nothing real
Colours dull and fade
In this void words will not come
So I become still
(An attempt to figuratively capture experiences of autistic shutdowns and/or intermittently becoming non-verbal.)
Today I reflect on connections
Giving love, receiving love
So many feedback loops
All precious, all powerful
All so very necessary
Like all things invaluable
Each with a secret expiry
Some brutal painful day
So hold them tight, cherishing
Until their inevitable dissolution
November 30, December 3 2024
Autumn wind brings chill
Is that beast that haunts me more
Hungry or lonely
Night sky as always
Will I awaken relieved
To be breathing still
Heart needs rest yet
Somehow I can never find
The way to stillness
Another midnight
Unwanted awakening
Dread for forthcoming
Unease grips tightly
Mind plays friendships dissolving
Both past and future
Written upon waking just after midnight, slightly disturbed.
I think I tasted it again today
That rare experience, precious
Honey from a hive
Communal joy
Connected on all edges of my honeycomb cell
Now I go out to replenish, alone again
Seeking more solitary nectar
How I hope to taste this honey again soon
🐝 🍯
My love grows in a mindfully cultivated garden
Raised to be shared with a small selection
As nutritious ingredients
For their wholesome efforts
…
Why do I write myself out of my own story
In my daily mind and in my work?