HAPPY THANKSGIVING ALL!

This morning, as I rolled out of bed, my right foot set squarely in a little "gift" my "Best Buddy" left for me. Ugh. Nevertheless, I am not going to let even this cold and calculated stunt by my little pup make me not have a heart of thanksgiving. Even for him.

To all my readers, those within the US and those international readers (of which there are hundreds!) I wish you a blessed THANKSGIVING! We all have something to be thankful for. In my last post I spoke of the pain which has chronically attacked me for 15 years. I am thankful for my pain, in as much as it drives me to Jesus, who is "a very present help in time of trouble." Only the dead have no pain. I am sure many of you experience pain that would make mine feel like pleasure, by comparison. Please be thankful that (1.) it's not as bad as it could be, and (2.) that you're still alive, and have much yet to do. But hey...I don't mean to preach. I just hope you can stop long enough to think about all you have to be thankful for. I'm thankful for my readers. Ya'll are way too quiet. I rarely get a comment. But I can hear you breathing!

~~ James
PS---Happy Thanksgiving, Monarch in Flight!

Laugh!

Like an old tire
Worn and frayed to its steel belts
I cannot go much further.

This pain fatigues me.

It bites into my flesh
Making the promise
Of a new day
One, rather, of dread
And foreboding.

But every morning
With few exception
I mount up
To take my place
On the firing line.

I confess to you
Quietly and humbly
That it would work in my favor
Were the unfriendly
And gloomy creatures that be
Gain a brief upper hand
And dispatch me home.

I say this not to alarm
Those who care for me
But to cheer them.

If you hear one day
I have been reprieved
And have slipped life’s silver cord
You are to laugh!
Laugh and be glad.

I will be where I always meant to go.

I Will See You Again

A day is coming
I will see you again.
It may be a day of shimmering sun
Dancing from your hair
In dazzling auburn rays.

I will see you again
Maybe in soft rainfall
Glistening from your shoulders
In prismed light.

I will see you again
Possibly in sparkling snow and ice
Framing the purity of your heart
In tiny pristine crystals.

I will see you again
Perhaps in firelight’s soft comfort
Warming your buttery flesh
In golden and amber tongues of flame.

I do not know
My love
My dear one
What majesty of nature
May illumine your tender form
But this I know…

I will see you again.

Against the Zephyr

I remember your glistening hair
Reflecting bright sun shafts
Long and loosed
Describing the whims of the wind.

As a younger man
I stood alone in golden wheat lands
Hands spread against the zephyr.
I had not remembered that
Until now
With your soft strands wafting free.
Free like Tibetan prayer flags
Seeking divine eyes to see
To know and understand.

How I wish I understood
Knew you.
I would have furled your hair
Tamed your wild heart
And planted hope
In your tender soil.

But I was afraid.
Afraid you would fly
Like the wind that chased you.

I cannot pass a wheat field
Or standing corn
Swaying in summer winds
And not see you again
Your long hair loosed
And flying free.

The Rapture of You

I feel you
As the wind feels you
Know you
As does the earth.

You are fresh
As sea breeze is fresh
From the salted coast
Mixing with fields
Of saw grass and grains.

As morning rains are soft
You are soft
Your touch as gentle
As mist
As insistent
As time’s inexorable passing.

You are the melody of evenings
The glow of starlight
You are the urgency of breath
And all that charms me.

You are the warmth of sunlight
The fullness of bread
The hope of tomorrow.

When measured against the rapture of you
All else is ordinary.
I fall into you
As leaves from the limbs of autumn.

All I long for
Desire and need
Is met in you.

Finished

I have seen too much blood
Too many bodies
Splayed across gory floorboards
Draped over crimson beds
Slumped on shattered steering wheels
Or swaying from wooden rafters.

I am surprised to discover
I have an inner quota
And can stuff and pack
Not one more dead child
Fresh-faced teen
Or broken woman or man
Into my ledger of the dead.

I discovered this
By loosing all composure
While lying in bed
On the apron of an eve
When suddenly all those empty
Lifeless eyes
Spilled from my heart
To shatter the night.

Step by step
An inch at a time
I have eased away from the certainty
Of one more dance with death.
I have no further word of comfort
Not another expression of compassion
Or prayer for the dying.

I am finished.

I guard my heart.
I protect myself from the Reaper.
He will come for me someday
And that’s fine with me.
But please do not ask
That I stand watch
When he comes for you.

Weighing it Out

I’ve stood on this ridge before.
I have viewed the broad expanse
And have weighed the risk
Against the possibilities.

I know that he who never risks
Can never attain.
But I also know that he who always risks
Will eventually be prey.

So I stand here again
Balancing one against the other.
My inclination
Is to ease into the tree line.

My gut warns my silence
Leave no footprints
And know that opportunity
Is sometimes only bait.