By the blood of the lamb
That was slain before the foundation
Of the world.
Out of nothing God made something,
Everything that was made He made,
And the word became flesh
And
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my almost four year old asked me a question, completely unprovoked and random, only like a child knows how.
mommy, do you mean your mom died?
lunch no longer seemed so important, my
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In the dark it’s hard to be,
Steps are calculated and breaths are heavy,
To turn, keep straight or be still?
Sight is limited, is something there,
Is something here? Heart doing
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Silent screams echo in my mind. Help has been asked for with pleasing eyes. Assistance is beckoned through side glances and passive aggression. This is unsustainable.
How am I so loud yet withering
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Inch by inch ground is covered. Toe by toe the foot grows. How many steps until finished? Until the puzzle is complete? Until the picture is captured? Until peace is the victory won?
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I miss my mom.
I miss my mother so much, I often don’t think about her.
I miss my mom so much, it takes stumbling across an old picture for me to
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it is hard to move, to shift, to breathe new air, when a plan has not been carefully charted.
going with the wind sounds fun but when the gusts pick up and threaten
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sitting still and just being have never been easy,
responsibilities heaped on top of responsibility,
no end to the demand i have been expected to keep up with.
there is a chair, but
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I often search my mind for memories of you,
Sometimes I find them easily, a flower bud at the first of Spring,
Other times the search is more difficult, - a green leaf
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