Beyond the facade

You must have been a beautiful baby

the song plays quietly in the background of my mind

I hum along and wonder,

well, aren’t they all when you think about it?

When it comes down to a heart beating

and the miracle of cells dividing


creating something so unique,

and why is it only

babies that can be beautiful

for when we see the dirty unkempt homeless man

or the woman with the missing limb,

what changes in the mind to see

anything less than the beauty that lies within?

Why does the judgement happen

for the way a person looks or seems

as if through fault of their making

as sickness ravages and shades of red welts rise,

turned to purple and the swelling overwhelms,

yet the eyes that gaze into yours

relay the kindness and love felt from within

and the tears fall from a simple acceptance

the glow begins to form around the soul.

I’ve heard upon view of a not so pretty child,

must have been hit by the ugly stick a time or two…

childhood taunts come back to my mind

and I am thankful for the passage of time

that allowed my soul to grow into understanding,

when faced with a view that invokes stares,

I feel compelled to hold out my hand

and with a smile simply say,

I can only help you find what you seek,

but it can’t change much

for you are already beautiful enough.

A middle-aged woman came into work the other day searching for a few items, her head bulged from beneath her scarf, a large purple addition of her head which was pressing down and almost engulfing her eyes. I think years ago I would have stared with mouth agape not knowing what to say, but am thankful for the years of life lessons which have left me with a loving and understanding heart.  I held out my hand to her as she said she could barely see, her husband standing quietly at the front of the store, allowing her to come with me as I guided her around answering any questions and finding what it was she requested. At check out she started crying and thanked me for not making her feel like a monster, for smiling and making her laugh and that now she would feel more comfortable going out into the world again. I asked if her sight would come back, she replied yes, after all the non-stop infections stopped. I gave her a blessings, squeezed her hand and as she left, thanked the big guy above for teaching me tolerance and love. She must have been a beautiful baby, for they all are, even grown up.

Everyday people

He moves slowly in circles around the pool of water, reflections lengthen as the sun hits its stride into the depths of the sea, up and down,slow and steady his tired arms move, fresh and newly pebbled rectangle of concrete and above the  bright shining blue calm skies, refreshed and alive as he watches his days flitter past him. Scrubbing sides a week old, water fresh and clean and he moves about in his rhythm, up and down…does he wonder what it’s all for?

A square shell of a sauna lies on its side like a beached whale upon the grass beneath the tree, weeks gone by as the grass below dies away, fading into a pale shade of green turned white, useless and neglected, a piece he bought for her, to ease her pain, but she never used it…unused and rotting away, decomposition makes its way subtly in…like everything unused tends to do.

The small four legged mop of white barks incessantly, come in I would think the translation would be, yet the old man continues on…he mows, he trims, he blows away the wisps of what will now die because it’s Saturday at four and that’s what always happens…and she will remain within the confines in the cool air waiting, for that’s what she does, with her kind smile and humble ways, her aches hold out for his entrance, welcoming I hope.

I am not there. I can only imagine what goes on beyond the hedge as lives move day to day. He surviving the big C and she arthritic and waiting, they groove on like clockwork, tick and tock and time continues rocking past them and I wonder if they ever wish for more time than what stands before them, I wonder if they spoon together as they settle in to sleep so very thankful for this everyday routine.

And they spoke…

How could I have forgotten

On the endless quest for the light

That darkness would always follow

Lessons to learn

Images to memorize

On our way through this life

We see what we long to

Ignoring the signs,

Dead end streets that leave us wondering the direction

Internal compass in perpetual kitty wampus,

Is that a word I’d often heard to describe the state

Of chaos,

And the birds chatter on branches endlessly,

Yet Poe is no longer around to decipher the script

And I hold up the cardboard sign

Pleading for understanding on a desolate site

and yet they move on like passengers

Locked into the endless 3D screen,

Waiting for a conclusion,

And here I sit in thought wondering….

There they go again

Driving by as the red light changes to green

I am unseen.

Into bushes I will move as the light I sought

Burns too deep,

And I will escape into the night,

Befriended by the darkness

Slipping into the nest

I call home.

Many thoughts moving….a large homeless population in the small city/town that is home…as seasons change….darkness and light battle….I give my thougts to the lost souls near and far.