Mind's eye

Oh how my heart dreams when I'm not watching.
Dreams of adventure, meaning and blue skies.
Dreams of things more grand than the mundane.
Of playing the warrior queen,
Oh no, Of more than playing.
Being.
Long hair curling and twisting in the wind, furious action punctuated by
Stillness.
Sword, perhaps, in hand. Capable and ready.
Defending but above all defended.
My heart dreams of small plans accomplished on stormy days.
Dreams where confidence and authority are wielded as
the softest touch; silk-sheathed steel.
Beautiful, dangerous, and heartbreaking dreams,
coalescent landscapes shaded with the textures that come with freedom from the constraints of
possible
practical
available.
I turn, my mind's eye hoping to catching these fantastic grotesques before they disappear...
Oh how my heart dreams when I'm not watching.

Eugh

My mood is one that defies expression in coherent, English words.

It looks at the alphabet and growls, unintelligible.

It's all sound and fury, signifying nothing though. Growls, snaps and snarls to distract, to cover, and to protect what's beneath.

Questions, hurt, and impatience roil beneath the surface. A maelstrom of a cocktail, waiting, always waiting. Blessedly, they are not the same questions as they've been before. They've changed, grown and shifted along with the faultlines from the ever-long year.

Treasured in a bottle

It's only in the quiet moments that it makes itself known.

Only when the noise of the day finally stills.

And the ache escapes like the whisper of a sigh from the box it's been kept in, tightly chained and padlocked against escape.

Tears track silent prayers.

Inhale.

Exhale.

And on the out, more tears escape.

It's a quiet litany of confession and brokenness, need, ache and longing.

Above all longing.

And all too soon the moment passes, and everything is corralled back to the box. The chain is tightened and the lock replaced.

And so few are the wiser.

Looking

Looking for the right words this afternoon.
For now, let's leave it at "this song has been on repeat."

Jesus has overcome

...and the grave is overwhelmed.

We bear the light of the Son of Man, so there's nothing left to fear.

Bits of songs, sayings and verses run through my mind tonight.

Nothing so coherent as to form a complete idea. Even songs put on repeat slip, sliding back into the eddy of half-voiced thoughts that's taken up residence where a mind and heart should be.

Why did you say yes?

You could have said no.

You knew- and you know- how I feel about it.

You say you never wanted to hurt me. But you didn't hesitate. You said yes, and then worried for days about how I'd feel.

What am I supposed to say? You matter to me. Our friendship is one of the best I've known. So I'll gather up the pieces and box them away. You'll never know how hurt and disappointed I am. I'll get the point where I can look you in the eye again and act as if nothing happened. To be able to laugh and joke and share again. Somehow.

It's going to take a while to get put back together.

Coffee preaching

I didn't know I was praying for myself.

I sat down at the table next to them and soon realized that I had become an accidental voyeur to a holy moment. 

He's only about my age, but he's preaching up a storm to his coffee buddy. I started praying that his words would be heard, that his audience would listen and understand. 

The more that I listened- without even intending to- the more I realized that I needed to hear what he was preaching too.

He's drawing analogies  I understand and.... 

and now he's gone.

I get up to follow, to thank him, but he's gone.