Tag: poetry

Tree

The tree sees everything,
From sunrise to sunset,
From day to week,
From month to year.

She stands tall and strong,
Moving with the wind,
Withstanding the rain,
Never showing her fear.

She takes the heat,
And takes the freeze,
Staying consistent, constant,
Hiding every tear.

Her leaves fall and
Grow back, a repeated
Cycle, a guarantee-
She’ll always be here.

The tree sees everything,
From sunrise to sunset,
From day to week,
From month to year.

But who will ever
See her?

Clarity

Tears blur your vision,
Making it hard to see,
Emphasizing the confusion,
And the pain that caused them.

You blink and try to clear your eyes,
But more and more just flow,
Streaming down your cheeks,
Leaving a salty trail on your face.

The pain swallows you whole,
Seeping into each crack of your
Heart. Your breathing turns to gasps,
Until you can’t hear anything else.

So slow down, hit pause,
Pull over if you have to.
Let them fall until there’s
Nothing left, ‘til you’re dry.

Then blink.
And find your clarity.

Tears

Tears are salty raindrops
That fall from eyes
Instead of clouds.

They speak for us
When our pain
Cuts off our words.

The pain stems from
Disappointment, heart break,
When we feel alone-

like no one sees,
like no one understands,
like no one cares.

We think they run
Unseen-down our cheeks,
Our chin, then gone

As we face reality,
And let go of hope
As it slides away,

Falling from our faces,
But leaving trenches,
Felt only in our own hearts.

But- Someone does see.
Someone does understand.
Someone does care.

He feels our pain,
And collects each tear,
Saving them in a bottle.

He holds each tear, sees
Each fear. Knowing our true
selves, and loving us anyway.

Reminding us hope is
Never gone, His love
Is never unattainable.

When pain consumes,
When questions stay unanswered,
When nothing makes sense,

His love stays. And He
Saves and rescues, each and
Every undeserving piece

Of your soul,
Of your heart,
Of your tears.

And He never lets you go.

A Letter to Grandma

Three hundred and sixty five days-
It’s only a fraction of
Twenty six and a half years.

But each one felt so different,
So foreign, than any of the ones
That came before.

I feel like the world should
Have stopped turning, or at least
Paused. But it just kept on moving.

I’ve submitted my novel to a few
Publishers. Nothing has happened yet,
But I promise I’ll keep trying.

I’m teaching middle school now
Something you always wanted,
I’m sorry you’re not here to see.

I wrecked my car, totaled it,
Yeah, it was my fault, but I’m ok.
I’m sorry. I know you would’ve been scared.

I fell off and dislocated my shoulder,
And could hear your voice saying
“Erica Lynne,” as you shook your head.

Boog is with you now, or at least
I hope he’s found his way to you.
I always teased you that he was yours.

Madeline sleeps in your chair,
Yes, it’s covered in her gray hair, but
She’s keeping it warm and safe.

I got a puppy. I can see you rolling your eyes.
But I named him Deacon, from Nashville,
You always said Charles Esten was cute.

Each day has been divided into moments,
Some good, some okay, some hard.
I guess that’s probably normal.

Something simple can still catch me
Off guard. Like my total at the gas station- 1928. The year you were born.

Other memories come and make me
Laugh, which I know is what you would want.
You were always smiling and enjoying life.

I’ve grown a lot, changing in ways I think
are good. I’ve made some mistakes, yes,
But I hope I’ve still managed to make you proud.

Three hundred and sixty five days-
It’s only a fraction of
Twenty six and a half years,

But it stands out in bold type,
Harder, sharper, than the rest,
Because it was the first one,

Without you here.

Better

If I was a better photographer
I’d be able to let my pictures
Stand up alone, and speak for themselves.

But instead I’m a slave to the
Dictionary. Always searching for the
Right words to string together.

Sometimes rambling when I should
Just be silent. Other times staying silent
When I should say something, anything,

That could fix it all.
Or at least make it better.

If I was a better writer,
I’d be able to write poems and stories,
That would mean something to someone,

Anyone, without a picture to hold their
Attention. But the camera never leaves my
Hand. And the picture sometimes comes first,

Before the words ever find their way
Out of my heart and onto the blank,
And often, intimidating, page-

As it waits for the one rhyme, or line,
That creates someone’s idea of the perfect

happy ending.

Someone Like Me

Someone like me—
deals with anxiety.
Caring too much for
what doesn’t matter.
And not enough for
what truly does.

Someone like me—
falls short over and over.
Never enough, never
brave, never perfect.
Failing, flailing,
hurting myself, and others.

Someone like me—
stutters and stumbles.
Struggling with the same
things, every single time.
Wondering if there will ever
be change. Or hope.

Someone like me—
is never understood by
those who surround me.
My thoughts, my dreams,
never match theirs,
dividing my heart in half.

Someone like me—
is unworthy, alone to
face the giants and fears.
Trembling, shaking, shattering,
instead of taking hold of the
stones in my hand.

Someone like me—
is hopeless, a lost cause.
Getting left behind in this life.
Deserving nothing but darkness,
shame, and guilt. The
results of my stupidity.

But Someone like Him—
Redefined my future, redefined
every lie I believe about
myself. With one display
of incomprehensible love—
His death on the cross.

Someone like Him,
has plans for me,
using my failures, my falls,
my anxiety— to create a
masterpiece I can’t see.
Or even start to understand.

Someone like Him,
loves even the most unlovable
pieces of my heart and soul.
Tearing down the walls,
the barrier of sin and hell,
so I can have a forever with Him.

Someone like Him,
With unending mercy and
relentless love, takes my
unworthiness, my guilt, my shame,
and all of the other lies I hold,
and breathes truth into my darkness—

Reaching me with unshakable kindness.
Holding me with unchanging patience.
Freeing me with unfailing grace.

And loving me, when no one should.