~* Whispers in the wind *~

There are no whispers;
There is no wind;
There is just the vast silence of
Nothingness:

Lost,
Alone,
Tears,
The ache that never quite goes away.

Thoughts hidden,

I tire of digging the huge holes to hide them in.
They push their way to the surface
Faster than I can cover them.

Where are the whispers in the wind,
The ones that used to whisper of hope?
The wind had died;
The whispers are dead,

Just the lonely silence,
Nothing more.

Never give up?
Ha!
Maybe it's time!

How do you get through each day
knowing the next will only be worse?
How do you smile
when your heart is breaking,
broken.

Friends run away.
No one wants to think it could be them.
Lets hide our heads in the sand and pretend.

Is there no one that will hold out a hand,
even one,
To say ... I understand?
I'm here.

Nope,
alone,
Lonely.

The end.

Winter's gift

The winter folds around my shoulders
With its frozen embrace.
Its weight too much for me to bear
And I crumble to the ground,
Motionless ... Void of feeling
Empty.

No sound,
No light,
Only the mind numbing cold
To fill the time

Time seems to have stopped
Until ...

Your hand reaches
Through the emptiness
And pulls me back to hope.

What would I do without you?

~* Shadows in my mind *~

What happens to all those things,
Those awful things
That we hide in those shadows
Somewhere deep in our brain?
Sometimes one tries to slip through
And come to the surface,
But I've gotten really good
At pushing them back
Into their dark corners.
They will not overpower me.

Yet, these are a part of me,
Formed by me.
Waiting to spring out at the worst possible time.

These are all thoughts of things
I could have done,
Should have done,
Would have done,
But did not.

They haunt my present and control my future
For they are strong, brawny, and unforgiving.

The weight of them is so heavy
Sometimes I cannot move,
Like a million books piled on my head
Weighing me down,
Pushing me down, down, down.

These shadows of my mind,
Simmering and boiling,
Stirring pain and regret,
Into a inedible delicacy.

When one of these
Awful things
Makes life totally unbearable,
I wrestle with it,
Take care of it,
And find out
I ... am in control
After all!

*~ Memories ~*

A new day slips
Ever so quietly into my room ...
Tiny fingers of light
Touch my cheek
In a loving Caress.

Shadows of memories
Lost in the clutter,
The past marches by me,
Soldiers in time.
Each piece a picture in time
Of what was and maybe
What will be ...
Could be ...
Should be,
Stories waiting to be told.

Clutter and time,
Rhythm and rhyme,
I sit in the silence
and think
Of things that were
And things to come,

And in the stillness
I know
Silence is not golden;
It's just lonely.

~* The Key *~

I woke up with a peculiar feeling.
Doom and impending joy
Clashed inside of me.
I was caught in a vortex
Between sadness and happiness.

What could it mean?
Why would these two oh so different feelings
Be lodged somewhere so deep inside of me
And yet come filtering out to my waking mind?

Something deep inside of me
Needed to be let loose,
But what was it:
Joy ... Sorrow ... Inspiration ... Doom ... Fear?

I sat down and stared at the brightly lit light of my computer.
It seemed to be waiting for me to ... Do... Something.
My fingers, sat lightly on the keys,
Waiting.

My chest was heavy with the feeling of
Something trying to be set free.
It actually ached.

I needed to find the key
That would open the door
That seemed so tightly locked
That I could not open it.

I felt into my pocket ... imaginary, yes ...
But still I knew, I knew, the key was there.
Deep down in the very, very bottom -
A tiny gold key!

I gingerly pulled it out,
Held it for a moment in my hand, and
Pushed it into the rusty lock ...
And, with great effort, turned the key.

The door opened ever so slowly.
I gazed in and saw ...
What looked like a soft golden cloud.
I entered and it seemed to surround me with -
What should I call it -
Clarity ... the ability to see through the dark ...
To make sense of the light ...
To actually find the path that had been opened for me.

I started down that new path,
Parts of it as dark as the darkest night,
Parts of it lit with the most beautiful light in the whole world.
And at that moment, I knew
There would always be
Times of light,
Times of dark,
And we must walk through both of them
With our heads held high,
With the knowing
That at the end of the darkness
The light would always be there.
Life is good.

~*~ Hope ~*~

Another year has flown past.
As time seems to move faster and faster,
My clickity clocks are all tickity tocking away
in perfecty harmony with the universe,
As I peer down the long road into forever.

I ponder on how fragile it all is:
Me ... You ... the World,
So breakable. What escapes me is
The oh so delicate ethereal meaning of it all.

I am so easily shattered ...
A word ... a loss
and I lose myself into a million tiny pieces
Like Humpty Dumpty
Waiting to be put back together again.

But ... then ... a tiny glimmer of light appears.
A friend said to me,
"We are fragile alone but together unbreakable."
And ... that gives me hope.

Sazzy Oh 8/7/10

~*~ Brain Drain ~*~

How do you get your brain to turn back on?

It's kind of like when you have an old car and every time you go to turn it on you have panic wondering if this day is the day it really won't start. Brains are kind of the same. They need attention, nourishment, beauty to see, music to encourage the flow like water running over the edge of the craggy rocks that have blocked the flow for so long. Who will come along and help turn the key into the wonders of the universe?

So many things in the world - beauty, joy, sorrow, pain, love - so many abound. If the world is filled with all these things and more, where have my ideas gone? Did they fly away into the inky darkness of the night to hide behind the moon in one of its desolate craters? Are they hiding under the turbulent waves in an angry ocean? Did the sweet birds that come to my feeder each morning find them and take them away to their nests? All I want is for those amazing ideas to return. Imagine the stories they will have to tell.

Hidden in the shadows of my mind, struggling toward the light of conversation, sibilant whispering conversation, my secrets are inner turmoil seeking freedom, paths to others' ears.

My last thought, my very last thought, what will it be? I can only hope that I leave with a smile on my face, remembering all the good in my life, none of the bad, and really, really see that bright white amazing light that will draw me forth into ... More.