nature, nurture
breaking this earth
breaks my heart

turning, churning
duck in the shade
giving it over

gently, lovingly
lay seeds
pat the soil

pausing, experiencing
this is all i can do

raw tears into the ground

grieve, heal
next year
yes, next year will be easier

when i am full
       i fear the impending suffering, the empty

sabotage is the name of my game
       
       no more

rest in His faithfulness, the fullness He gives
       and suffering will not be
                                              empty

there will be purpose

a purpose i may never understand
       but it is not 
                         empty
                                   and never will be

:
six years old
   one brown paper lunch sack
carefully rolled up 
   hiding it's contents
opened and closed so often
   it's wrinkles produce dust


i carried it in my pocket
   kept it on my bookshelf at night
it held what fascinates me most
   evidence of time, life and death


a bag of bones
                    :

:
if i slow 
     i have to feel
when i feel
     i remember


what used to be
the things that are no more


though i have gained so much
i mourn what is lost


memories of times
never to return
                          :

:

these words

         i feel

these words

         lay dormant

these words

         now released

these words

         so sweet,

         escaping my mind

                                   :