a poem from 8-18-09 (after my walk along the canal bank)
The days are dark yet the sun is shining
waiting for a breath of life
three white doves flew up before I reached them
i shaded my eyes and watched them fly
what do I know from their flight?
Oh, how I wish they could have released me from my dark of night.
A tiny blue flower in my path
amidst the weeds it blossomed
and then the realization that the blueness in its delicacy
was also a weed
I saw the reflection of yellow in the water
before I looked up to see the sunflower on the canal bank
also a weed, I smiled.
There is beauty inside of my heartache
just like the tiny pink petals of a morning glory weed
twisting around a plant
just like the purple flush of weeds overtaking a field
and the yellow sprig of color on the milky weeds
in the flower bed
I can see the trees and mountains behind them
I can touch the soft white underside of the green
leaf of an ash tree
I can rub my fingers against the softness of a rose petal
the tiny red flowers on the ground cover catch my eye.
I just can't feel the beauty
I sense it
I'm grateful for it
closing my eyes I can try to hold on to it
why won't God let me feel it?
He's in charge of beauty.
The heaviness hurts
even with beauty inside.