I return to the deepest of sources

I return to the deepest of sources

when my soul

cries out in remorse

for all that it longs

for

but cannot

find.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when my pain

has taken a

hold

and embolized

me in fear

leaving me

captive.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when the anger

can no

longer remain

inside

without

poisoning my

veins.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when I cannot

cry

any more

tears

of grief

and

sadness

like a river

run

dry.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when the love I thought

I had

is now

gone

and

in its

place

only rests

nothing.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

to find

you

silently waiting,

silently watching,

silently wanting.

 

 

Before I die

Before I die, I

want to live

finally

like I lived before

it all.

 

Before I die,

I want to forget about

all the hurt

and sorrow and sadness

and every ounce

of pain

that robbed my soul.

 

Before I die,

I want to be released

from the prison

in which I have

kept myself lonely

and captive in.

 

Before I die,

I want to love

like I loved

just that once

for all eternity

until I cannot love

anymore.

 

Before I die,

I want to remember

all that was

good in the midst

of all that was

so very, very

bad

and all that was

bad

in the midst

of all that was

so very, very good.

 

Before I die,

I want to live

once more

like I lived

before I died.

Forget about hope

Forget about hope.

That just does not exist.

 

Live today.  Live now.

Call her

Call him

Tell her

Tell him

 

Today is all that is here.

Not tomorrow.

Not yesterday.

 

While living under false impressions

It can all be pulled out from under you

like a scatter rug.

 

Forget about hope.

Live today. Live now.

Do it

Don’t wait

Don’t question

Don’t stop.

 

Today is all that is here.

Not tomorrow.

Not yesterday.

 

I can’t tell you what will happen tomorrow

in the tea leaves of today.

 

This could be our last kiss

it could be our first.

 

It could be our first I love you

or it could be our last.

 

Forget about hope.

Live today. Live now.

Do what must not wait

Do what must

Don’t overthink

Don’t think at all

 

Today is all that is here.

Not tomorrow.

Not yesterday.

 

Don’t hope for a better tomorrow

with him

with her

with them

 

Tomorrow is today.

Yesterday is now.

 

Don’t let it linger

on your lips

all that you meant

to say.

 

Forget about hope.

That just does not exist.

 

There is nothing beyond now.

Who knows?

 

I wished I hadn’t waited until tomorrow.  I would have said I loved you one last time. I would have held him deep in my arms. I would have kissed him with my heart full of passion.  I would have told him what he meant to me…I would have, I would have…. 

You must.

 

 

On being lost

I am lost.

I don’t know where to begin to set off.

Don’t you know that feeling?

 

That feeling of nothingness

like blank paper and no words?

 

I am lost.

I feel as if I am in a vast sea

with no shore in sight.

Don’t you know that feeling?

 

That feeling of floating

with nothing holding you up?

 

I am lost.

You are gone.

I turn to look

but it is not you.

Don’t you know that feeling?

 

That feeling

when you are sitting desperately alone

for the first time since the last time?

 

I am lost.

Like the clouds in the sky

that randomly float in

no particular pattern

carried by the winds.

Don’t you know that feeling?

 

That feeling of

blue sky and whitewash

on a partly cloudy late summer afternoon?

 

I am lost.

Tears roll down my face

silently, slowly, hauntingly.

Don’t you know that feeling?

 

That feeling

when there is nothing else left to feel

but solitary confinement in your own

cell-like thoughts?

 

I am lost.

I wonder when you will come back to me.

Sadness takes over my being

like a sax in the middle of a solo

lamenting to the darkness.

Don’t you know that feeling?

 

That feeling

when it is all gone and nothing is left?

 

I am lost.

I want to lose myself

but yet life

calls me back.

And, I comply.

 

Don’t you know that feeling?

Again,

don’t you know that feeling?

 

I beg of you.

Don’t you know that feeling?

The wound of mortality

You carry it.

I carry it.

We all carry it.

Deep in our heart

lie the wound of

mortality.

 

We try

to cover it with a blanket of skin,

but

no matter how much we try,

no wound is ever silent.

 

Beyond that fair exterior,

I feel the tremble

of your wound,

just as you feel the

tremble of mine.

 

You carry it.

I carry it.

We all carry it.

Deep in our heart

lie the wound of

mortality.

 

For one brief moment,

the sacred enters in

knowing exactly where our pain lay.

 

And, in that moment,

the divine light heals

your soul,

my soul,

as it gently weeps.

 

You carry it.

I carry it.

We all carry it.

Deep in our heart

lie the wound of

mortality.

 

For each of us,

the voice is different,

from a time when we were

damaged

or

wronged.

It evades time

and

analysis.

 

Only with waiting,

as with all great arrivals

in the soul,

healing comes from a place

we never predicted nor

anticipated.

 

Silently waiting for its time.

 

As your soul gently weeps,

as my soul gently weeps,

no wound ever remains silent.

I am anxious, I am scared.

I am anxious, I am scared.

My soul trembles deep within, my confidence escapes.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I know not what lies ahead of me, only behind.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I live in an interim period of what is between.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I feel no humor or sense of irony about me.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

I wait each day for a coming liberation to free me.

 

I am anxious, I am scared.

One day soon, I will stop the punishment and smile.

Great uncertainty

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

 

What I once knew to be true

I know not of anymore.

 

Dishelvement and confusion

weight me down

with gravity.

 

My heart is heavy.

My physical body tired.

I am spent.

 

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

 

But, yet you stand there

on the margins of

unknowing.

 

You encourage and guide

with your all your experienced

wisdom.

 

You know not of me,

but yet you walk in my

very shoes.

You understand me.

 

There is no judgment

just release.

 

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

 

I feel your whole

presence enfolding

and helping me

find that stairway up.

 

I crawl then climb

up, up, up

the staircase

towards the door ajar

where the dim light

leads me forward

out of the darkness that surrounds me.

 

Now is the time

of

great uncertainty.

Fragility and pathos

Darkness rolls down from the slopes,

Slowly seeping into the valleys

Robbing the day

Away from its stronghold.

As the night ebbs in

It seeps into corners and crevices

Taking away identity of all that is known.

The light retreats as if after a battle

Losing its strength to the mighty

Darkness that marches towards it

Willingly throwing down its arms

In defeat.

Vulnerability sweeps the land,

Strange sounds not heard during day

Begin to emanate in the darkness.

Wild animals hidden from the light

Emerge into its deep, lush cover.

The mountains lay hidden in black

With all of their giant stature gone

Their power and might lost in submission

To the blackness that holds them

Captive in its mystery.

Fragility and pathos

Encircle the light as darkness

Overtakes it.

A struggle of presence over anonymity

Lies in the darkness that seeps

Down through the mighty slopes

Of infinite stature.

This poem was inspired by this evenings sunset as I️ contemplated the darkness edging into the light in Franconia, NH. Where I️ stay is only a stone’s throw away from Robert Frosts homestead. I️ have been coming to this inn for close to fifteen years, sometimes by myself, sometimes not. I️ first came when I️ was still married to Dennis. Sometimes multiple times of year. I️ have become like family here and I️ was saddened to hear of the innkeeper’s husband diagnosis of cancer. I️ felt that pain as the darkness overtook me.

A journey at mid-life

I move out of the darkness

towards the light.

 

A traveler in search of intimacy

in a world that honors

anonymity.

 

Secret growth in darkness.

 

Like the darkness of the womb,

I feel the struggle deep inside.

Tangling and wrestling with all that is.

 

Just as passion gives way to birth.

I am filled with desire

of longing and unknowing.

 

Secret growth in darkness.

 

Just as a baby’s body begins to form

and emerge

in the womb.

 

So too do I.

 

Just as the journey of my birth

so too is the journey of mid-life.

 

I seek and search, I form and unfold

as I travel on my own birthing

of becoming an individual in my own world

locked deep in my depths.

 

Secret growth in darkness.

 

I am on a journey

to shape and form

and emerge

into newness.

 

Just as in the womb,

my transformation

is happening in a deep darkness

in a forgotten journey between

worlds.

 

Secret growth in darkness.

 

Threshold after threshold I have crossed

and, I cross another

in darkness

to emerge at the end of my journey

in the brilliant shining illuminating light.

 

Just as I was born,

one day, I too

shall be cast out of the darkness of the cave

into the light.

 

And, then, will I know

 

A journey at mid-life.

 

 

In the eternal

17 years ago, my brother, Robert Travers, Jr., died at the age of the young 36 of rare cancer after a very short struggle.  

On this day, while my heart still aches terribly and the tears still fall, I honor his life and his bright light before while here on Earth and in the eternal.

 

In the eternal

our love still remains

as it always had.

 

In the eternal

you are safe and whole

and

vibrantly alive.

You are completely free.

 

In the eternal

my love reaches you

like the waves from a vast

continent reaches another.

 

In the eternal

you still live deep inside of me

ever present, ever knowing,

ever watchful.

 

In the eternal,

your soul and mine

are connected.

I feel your smile upon me

as you see all that I do.

 

In the eternal,

you are never a memory,

you only are

still alive in every being

that knew you.

 

In the eternal,

your soul awaits mine

so that your joy becomes mine

and we never separate

in that beautiful home of

eternity.

 

 

I miss you, my dear brother, I miss you…

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“You were born together, and together you shall be for evermore. You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days. Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.”  — Kahlil Gibran