emitdnaevol

I sit and stare at her.

Grey hair, glassy eyes, when did her skin

Crinkle so soft? We haven’t said a

word in years. Blind mornings

In the same bed for thirty five.

Her fingers wrestle gravity, glass shaking in cold hands.

Feet wet with fright, eyes up all night,

We brave on stranger lands.

I wonder when the beat collapsed, heart

breaks the cisterns rays. The holes they mound upon her lamp,

Her lips my memory fade.

The light we spoke in dancing streets,

Barb wire caught our clothes at meet.

We prayed on stars and burnt the night.

With words that fevered high.

That fire that we lit,

Free parachute the sky.

I let it dim with chills bone deep.

Time wrapped in sheets of nine to five,

The lie humanity hums a heap, cradled

Deep in prayers of silent rain.

Our beautiful was put to shame.

No claim for man’s passivity, I come to her

With quiet plea. Morning dawns

With paper rhymes, a cup of coffee

rid the sigh,

Of tainted care and poor goodbyes.

And I did this for thirty five.

I sit and stare at her.

Grey hair, glassy eyes, when did her skin

Crinkle so soft?

I've yet the words to make up roads,

but in this minute I'll let

Us find.

Our love in old and naked time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_KId5R_f-YI

and so we pray,

m

[loveandtime]

pitterpatterthings

thingsthatmakeyourheart

pitterpatter in happiness.

here's my seven for today
...

first, enjoy a melody,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQmMBiRvRL8&feature=related

cheekkisses,
m

p.s. thank you for the inspiration to stumble my way through life, matthew william everhart.
here's a stumble for you,
[atypicaldayinthelifeofourfriendship]

hitting light

When light hits the wet pavement, brought under the city's fire,

We ask, when did the rain come?

The last few days God has been having his way in whispers of admonition.

Mild, kind reproof of what He looks down on.

Broken vessels, cisterns brewing without water.

In their flesh, and tender needs,

But no voices speaking it.

When do we say it?

When the rain finally comes?

We falter and spin out and He pulls us back in.

His grace echoes

down,

down further past the bricks of

Recoiled hearts.

Come up,

He pulls us on.

The sky He holds is

Whole blue and you see

Redeemed in His clouds.

But we sit with muddy, dry hands

In the bottom of our wells.

Stubborn fools,

Come home and tell

Them the fire is out

And the rain is.

loves,

m

Thankful for my momma,

Thankful for you Friday,

in honor of

Sandra Jane

my mom.

Dear momma,

Remember when you and dad fell in love? How did you know? Did you just know or did you know in time? Did he make your heart pound...did your palms sweat...did he make you smile? Was his love well? They say that person brings the better out of you. Was it mirrored to you?

Remember when I came along? Or that night that made me. Could you feel me growing? Did I give you heaven and hell those nine months of waiting, kicking, itching for you to see me? Did you feel as connected as I do now? Tell me...did you love me before you knew me?

Remember when I ran around, hiding behind your knees and laughing? Always, always asking questions. Did I cry when I scraped my knee...did you like tea with mom-mom as much as me? Did you grin a mile when I set up house, and store, and school on that screened in porch that only rained on one side...

Remember when you wanted to be a magician? Well, I thought you were the coolest mom ever. Even though it didn't work out with the rabbit, you made magic happen for me. How about all those birthday parties? You threw the best and saved me from the mean girls and their dolled up sleeping bags. Remember how you were the only one who could ever make me feel special? I do.

Remember when I got my period? 52 women in one bathroom and all I needed was a tampon. All you could give me was your tears. Thank God for Aunt Terry being there. And hey, I walked out as #53. Were you scared? In joy? Did you realize then that the world was all ahead of me? You still had my hand.

Remember when you and dad stole the hinges from my door? I do. I suppose stealing your make up and playing dress up in the 6th grade AM stalls wasn't the best way to meet my heart issues. I only wanted to be beautiful like you. But I lied, and lied, even with the eyes that seemingly are in the back of your head. And how about that phone call from Mrs. Mellin?

Remember when dad said we should get a separation contract? Did you love me even when you hated me? Did you go to sleep wondering if the heartbreaks would ever stop flooding and the lies would ever stop brewing? Were you proud when I wore the crown...even after strawberry patches and 3 am wake up calls? Remember how you wrote to me, words under my pillow and in my lunch box? I kept them close.

Remember when I drove away? Bags packed, dorm room waiting and candles lit to set me free. New wings. Was it hard to see your baby fly? Did you trust my heart...hold tight to faith? Good thing I'm only an hour away and can come smooch your hugs whenever I please.

Remember when I found first love in a man? And not a boy. Did you see my heart more deeply? Was it hard to let my heart rest in his hands? Did it relieve you when he came home to you too? How about those 1700 miles cross country...you bore it with a smile that let me love him more. And don't worry, he knew my heart as much as you.

Remember when I had to fall? Farther down than a mom ever wants to see, I'm sure. And I bruised easily this time. But you held my fragile scars and fought for me with your strength stronger than death. You named love and let me feel it be taken for a time. Did you mean it when you said it would be better? Did you mean it when you said His love is greater than the pain? I think you did, because it is.

Remember when I came home whole? Were you frustrated that all you could do is pray and say, "Lord, come..." Well all you could do was more than enough. You let me be with Him. You came to see my mountains, and climb through all my heart has seen. Did you know it mean't a world to me?

It did. It set me free.

What's it like to have a daughter like me?

Who falters, and spins and keeps walking, heels bound for more.

Well you gave me life,

you helped me see.

And now we can grow together.

I love you,

Margot Marie

The Escapade

The Escapade.
(taken from my 1st day of teaching)

It is October 3, 2011. The leaves are slowly turning; green, to falling, to gold. I can see my breath in the chilled smoke coming out of my mouth that they call air. Today is The escapade of my childhood. And my eight year old dreams become my way of life. It is 7:44 in the am. I am seeing twenty faces that own a story. A story sealed shut the moment they walked out the door of their homes. Sealed in a little box called their desk, their hearts the keepers of all their secrets. Take a seat, they say. Put your book bag away, they shut them up. But I know that story is heavy in their hands, steady in their words, and lingering in their far away minds. This story will unfold in the way they use their pencils, the questions they ask, the attitude they spit in my face, and the care they let shine. Today, I am the teacher, and I will let their story breathe. Today, I am certain, I will fall in love.

And I did.

Beauties of a teacher's week so far:

[the morning message]

[the view of city windows, and street roofs. one boy says its worth a painting.]


[the teacher in me at work]

[the teacher desk. Lisa (the real teacher is showering me in little surprises this morning. yesterday a marker box, mayhaps today some glue?]

[after a long day, some yum yum dinner. chicken, spinach, tomatoes, peppers and pepper.]

[ a solid run of destressation. yes, you can make words up.]


[little gems from dumpster diving. thoughts on what i should turn this old window into?]


And I am late, and must go get my pumpkin spice to wakey up.


love love,
m