Meeting Her

I didn't see it coming...
The way things arrived...
That now occur...
And it's because of her.

A friend of a friend,
dancing for the first time,
swinging on the floor.
Spring-time seed planted.

Summer rains, and the seed grew.
A friendship of its own bloomed.
Still others blocked the sunlight,
but slowed to the right pace.

Interest and intrigue,
I saw her more and more...
Thought of her more and more...
Wondering more and more...

Another stood in the way,
bringing only possible destruction.
Being myself, and hanging out,
he was moved out.

Unintentional conversations...
Ambiguous references...
Then finally, it happened on triple 10s.
Now it's official, and days are happy.

Hot Chocolate

Take a sip...
Summer is coming to an end...
Take a sip...
Leaves are changing colors...
Weather is getting cooler...
Take a sip...
The sky ablaze with fire at dusk...
School is starting (along with homework)...
My mind wanders more and more...
Take a sip...
Winter is near, yet far...
Halloween is bound to be a treat...
Thanksgiving and blessings all around...
Take a sip...
Make a pile of leaves, and jump in...
Spend some time with your family...
Take a sip...
Grab a cup of hot chocolate...
Take a sip...

Gold Mine

Sifting through my memories

Picking out the golden moments

Reliving each over and over in a ring

Golden band that stretches over a finger

Like a ribbon to help remember

All the good times, and the bad

Some moments that define who we are

Special moments that we hold close to heart

Some moments that leave us wanting more

Some moments that leave us wanting less

Some moments so foggy

Some moments so clear

Some moments that seem so real,

But could have just been a dream

Reliving each moment

Allowing my memory to take over my senses

Every feeling to run through my body from head to toe

Every sight to fill my vision and cloud the current reality

Every sound to ring in my ears as though so fresh

Every taste to flood my tongue with its spice

Every smell to fill my lungs with its essence

Reliving a memory so vivid I lose tract of the real world

I fall into the memory and relive each second

And when all is said and done

I return to the world from which I came

I return in a daze almost as if I'd been sleeping

I place the golden ring back in its box

To open up when my past calls again

Is It Her?

I've met her before, but where?

Was it in a dream?

Yes, it was a dream...

A rain of bounty falls from her head,

her hair so perfectly highlighted by the sun.

She walks as though she knows where she's going...

She never runs for fear of going through life too quickly.

She embraces her time just being herself.

Her eyes gaze upon the world with wonder...

She can see the beauty of everything, even in a wilting rose.

She touches things with a care,

A touch that could only compare to a mother's loving touch to her new born.

She imagines herself in the life she hopes to live.

She experiences everything with a respect unequaled.

Never have I seen tears of sadness fall upon her face.

Is it her?

Is it her that I've seen only in my dreams?

Is it really her, standing right in front of me?

Is it her, right in front of me at this alter?

Is it her, right in front of me saying 'I do'?

It is... I just know...

It is her...

The Sun Will Come Out

She sat at the bus stop every morning,

Smiling with the warmth of the sun.

Every day she did this.

My heart would leap forth at the sight.

She radiated happiness and a sense of carefree living,

her world was perfect in every way.

In the rain or snow,

her beaming smile would scare away the clouds.

One day I came to the bus stop,

as I did every morning to get my dose of sun

from the smile of the woman who could cure an evil soul,

but she wasn't there...

the sun wasn't out...

the clouds rolled in...

She was there the next day,

her face raining in sorrow.

Only in movies had I seen such despair.

On the bus, I could not hold it in.

I sat down next to her and asked,

"What could cause the sun to hide

and allow the rain to fall from her eyes?"

She gave in reply,

"My mother is old, and has become weak,

she needs many medical devices to help her,

but she, nor I, have not the means to get them.

I fear I will not be able to care for her much longer.

The mountain on which our lives stood is now crumbling."

Everyone on the bus heard her cry of sorrow.

And because of the warmth of the sun she brought

to these strangers every day,

everyone grabbed their wallets and gave what they could spare.

She could not believe what was happening, and so she asked,

"Why do you do this? I do not know any of you."

I said to her in reply,

"You bring to us the warmth of the sun every morning.

We all see your smile and you bring hope to our day.

When we see your smile, our days are never poor."

When she heard this, she began to weep.

But her weeping was not filled with clouds.

She rained with the sun beaming in her heart.

The next day the sun was out,

even though it was raining outside.

We are no longer strangers to her,

we have become friends, and maybe even family.

As for me, next year she will be my wife.

Every Moment

The sight of a thousand eyes glaring at me.

Am I the cause of their worry?

Do I cause the burden they so obviously hold?

Where is it that I can save myself along with the others?

Why does it seem the world stops caring once people are happy?

Why am I left in the cold, disposed of by the very people I cared so deeply for?

Life questions that seem to pierce my very being.

They are all I think about every day, every hour, every minute, every second, every moment.

Moments of happiness are fleeting and sometimes far between.

My heart yearns for a happiness I have yet to feel.

A happiness far beyond my reaches it seems.

My life repeats in a never ending spiral of the things that have happened.

I pray for the time to come when the Interrupt will come to break the loop.

My programs cannot change a person's heart.

I cannot rewrite the way people are.

What do I do when being myself isn't enough?

Will I ever meet the person that will bring me the happiness I long for?

Do they even exist?

Every day, every hour, every minute, every second, every moment...

When will the broken heart be mended?

When will the strangled gut be relieved?

When will the scattered thoughts collide?

When will my broken heart be mended?

When will my strangled gut be relieved?

When will my scattered thoughts collide?

Every day, every hour, every minute, every second, every moment...

One last day...

One last hour...

One last minute...

One last second...

One last moment...

To change my life forever...

When will it arrive?

Music to my Heart

The radio speaks to me

And as I listen to the words that are said

It's almost as if it's speaking to me

Telling me what to do

Expressing my feelings

It speaks to my heart

To my very self

To my core

To me

However easy it is to say what it does

They seem even harder to do

Despite what I hope for or desire

It speaks to my inner fire

Telling me what I need to hear

From what to "Say", like "Good Riddance" to my past or desires, or...

To stand there "Calling All Angels" for help or that it's okay to "Breakdown"

I may not be able to make music with my hands

But I can sure as all heck listen and understand

Understand why it says the things it does

Understand why it speaks to me

Why it speaks to my heart

To my soul

To my core

To me...

My Answers

Here I stand, just me and the ocean

Waves crashing at my feet as I walk

Pacing back and forth, I call out to my God

Who is it that you say I am?

Who is it that you call me to be?

Where is it that you want me to be?

The moment in time, I hear no answer,

But in time I know the answer will come

I know in time the answer will come

It may not come right away, but I know

I know I'll get my answer

It may come in the wind, it may come in the water, it may come in my heart

It may come through to me by a friend, and it may come with the sun

Sooner than later would be nice though...

The Forest

--- I thought I'd try something new this time... this one isn't a poem, but closer to a short story, or more simply, just a short. It is based on one part of my life that I seem to be struggling with a lot lately. I'm not sure why I only now started thinking about it, but it's really been pressing on my heart. But anyways, here it is, The Forest. ---

In this forest that I currently walk, it is always autumn. There is a narrow path I follow, though I cannot tell where it will lead me. The only thing I know is that it leads deeper into this forest. This path is only one of many that intersect each other, and on occasion, do so multiple times. I'm not the only one in this forest. In fact, everyone is here. I remember starting out in this forest at the beginning, where the trees were farther apart, and there was less brush. The path also seemed a bit wider.

I started on this path with a group of friends from my early years in school. We would walk the path together, and on occasion one or more of us would choose to be more adventurous and stray from the path, off into the forest, if only for a few moments. They would run off the path, stomp in the leaves, climb the trees, then swiftly run back when they had finished their fun. Not really knowing what to do, I would follow along, allowing them to lead me. After a few years of walking, most of my friends decided to leave and form their own groups and go down other intersecting paths, while others from other paths came to join ours. But after a while though, most of my friends had decided to go and leave on other paths, leaving me and only a handful of friends. But they too, soon leave, leaving me alone on this path, with no one to lead me. So, I just kept walking, keeping my eyes on the path, brushing the leaves off the path when the wind would blow them on, covering it entirely. On occasion I would run into old friends when their paths crossed mine. We would stop for a minute or so to say our hellos, but then we would go off again, on our own paths.

A couple of years ago, I ran into a group of people following along a cleared path. I talked with them and befriended them and joined on their path. This new path looked nice. It was clear of leaves and debris, it seemed easy enough to follow, but there was one issue. Everyone else seemed to walk a little to quickly on the path. They never seemed strayed from the path very often, nor did they often get too close to the edge of the path when they were walking. If they did go off the path, they still followed along, parallel to the path.

Without having ever gone this long walking along the path without a break, I grew tired and weak. And, without being able to take a break, my pace grew slower and slower. However, they kept their pace, and just kept going. I, not wanting to be a burden, never asked for a break, nor did I ask for help to keep moving. And in doing so, they kept along, gaining more and more distance ahead of me. And now I feel as if I've been lost behind. They have moved too far ahead, and the wind has started to blow the leaves onto the path in front of me until I can no longer see the path.

I still, to this day, try to follow along the path. However, I sometimes cannot tell, with so many leaves, where this path truly goes. I fear I have at times wondered down the wrong path, if only to struggle to back track and find the real path again. And out of fear of ridicule and of being a burden, I keep my cries for help to myself. I again feel I'm left alone, on this path, covered in leaves. I still struggle to clear the leaves to try and find the right path, back to where they were, because I know, for some reason I just know, that they have to be on the right path, but with the distance between them and me being so great, and the darkness closing in, I wonder if they'd still hear my screams if I ever got the courage to do so.

Winter Snow

The snow, it trickles down from the sky with such ease and grace

Falling down to the earth at its own pace

Alone, one flake is crystal clear

But together the so called white death doth appear

Fun to play in, hell to drive in

Boy, am I glad to be inside at a time like this

Snow everywhere, here and there

Multiple inches to bury the earth in white

In a few days, weeks, months, it'll all be gone

Then the sun will shine, or it'll hide and rain

Either way Spring will come again