Hope Revived

Folded clothes
Untouched trinkets
Made up bed
Empty room.

If facts could speak
They’d affirm
You’ve left a space
And you’re no longer here.

Yet banners posted
Butterflies flutter
Abbey Theater’s a buzz
And your spirit’s a stir.

Your friends, your family
All gather and know
You maybe gone
But your core essence still remains.

Your light, your love
Your hard work, your intentions
Have inspired a start
An effort beyond your ‘Hope’.

Binding our spirits
Our want to be whole
Well-being the focus
And hence we exhibit.

From arts to crafts,
From 2 to 3D
We sing, we dance
We cry, we laugh.

The spirit of a soul
Can speak well after
The vessel is gone,
And you my love
Are as pure as they come.

In your remembrance
We’ve come to know
Love never dies
And Hope will always prevail.

Returning Old Friend

Left guessing each morning
As the night sky lingers,
Sun rising faster elsewhere
You tease your arrival.

Tickling the leaves
At the tips of weighted branches,
Sway is soft, sometimes brisk
Ghost-like you change the air.

Mid morning telling
With full force brightness,
Your are not quite ready
To come and stay.

Waiting for your signs
With warm hues of amber and burnt orange,
The longing deepening
For what only you can deliver.

Trees will be crowned
With jewels to be shed,
Giving comfort
And rustle to my feet.

Fall you arrive
Bringing time to reconnect,
As the hearth becomes
The gathering spot.

Time for reflection
Three quarters in,
The year almost done
What’s happened? what’s yet to be done?

Lists never completed
Bewildering and unforgiving,
Instead let’s give thanks
To each day, each season.

Thank you my old friend
You teach how to shed,
Keep gratitude close
And revive for seasons to come.

Alone in the Crowd

A profound problem prevails
Not of drugs,
Alcohol or sex
But of attention.

With lack of stillness
Abandonment of eye contact and listening
Value is lost
In the one on one.

With quality misperceived
Defined by quantity of ‘likes’
Distances traveled
Selfies with monuments.

This scarce commodity
Briefly given
Desperately craved
Now sought for in the unlikely.

These gadgets abundant
Handheld to worn,
Closer than keys
More valued than currency.

What have we become
When what we need
We’ve found in a mode,
Which serves only to perpetuate the disease.

With false sense of belonging
In a crowd yet alone
Hoping to be heard
Yet not a word is exchanged.

“Pictures are worth a thousand words”
But today we cry
No more pictures!
Just give me a moment
And few real words.

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Hardest Love

Learning to love
The ‘hardest’ person
In your life
Will be The greatest achievement.

To love this ‘hardest’ person
Means to Accept
Their weakness
Their faults
Their idiosyncrasies.

To love this ‘hardest’ person
Means to Forgive
Their choices
Their mistakes
The pains that are carried.

To love this ‘hardest’ person means
To show kindness in their loneliness
Share laughter in their sadness
Support their efforts
Acknowledge their concerns.

So begin now
To Love, Accept and Forgive
This ‘hardest’ person,
As it is none less
Than You, yourself!

This task appears easy
In this ‘me’ world
But who is it that we love?
The true self or the made up self?

Past the screens and barriers
Lies a tender soul,
Strong and fruitful
Locked away with but one key.

True love is this key,
With the mighty power
To release from all suffering
To embolden with courage.

So unlock this ‘hardest’ person.
Allow the potential
To surface
So love can be felt
Inside and out.

Artwork by Yossi Kotler, curtesy Pintrest.

Losing the Child

Every moment intense
With joy or discomfort.
The infant knows
Of nothing else.

Life as a child
Simple and unencumbered
Brims with adventure.
Here
Exhaustion is of excitement.

No need for bells and whistles
Nor ribbons or tassels.
Play and repeat play
Is the perfect ticket.

So what happens in all the growth?

We practice and perfect.
Becoming masters,
No longer enamored.
We call these milestones.

With crownings and honors
For drone like behavior,
These achievements a demand
Conforming to institutional norms.

With passage of time
Fatigue and age,
Perhaps we no longer
Jump, skips or dance.

Lost in this mud
Is the pure spirit of child,
The glee, the radiance,
The essence of life.

Without your childhood roots
Exist you would not,
So let the energy of old
Climb back into your bones.

Maybe then the ‘adventure’
Will not be lost,
Allowing your rise
To claim,
With the heart of a child
The aim,
To play again
In this great game of life.