It’s okay

To Justina 2.0

Prayers, Opus 40, Saugerties, NY ©2015

Guess what?

We are always going to be okay.
We really are.
Everything hurts, then feels good,
and then hurts again…
But in the end, the sun rises, and our hearts beat.
We hug, and sing in our cars,
and sip warm coffee from favorite mugs.
We love and we lose,
and smooth our hands
over cold stones in the river.
We stand naked in the pale light of dawn
and count the breath that leaves
warm from the heat of our lungs.
And feel small and alone,
a bundle of skin holding together a vast consciousness,
laying on the surface of a speck in the universe.

And it’s okay.
It always will be.



Prayers for the Open Road


At dawn’s light,
I rose to the aching.
Distinct and familiar,
it’s like an old friend.
I took to the road
to sit with it’s company;
a co-pilot in the seat beside me,
it needed to be heard.

Music and backroads,
rolling clouds and solace.
There are promises
and breakdowns
not meant for other’s ears.
So I talk to god and myself;
constantly being undone
by the green of new leaves
and the persistent  blue sky
reminding me I’m alive.

My passenger is now silent,
knowing I’ve listened.
Aware that I grasp
for that which I cannot have;
falling in love
with the impossible outcome.
I know this ache
like I know the touch
of her skin
when it’s warmed
by my palm;
like I know the pattern
of the river
that winds through the city
in my dreams.

I know all of the prayers
I have offered
on the open road;
shining stones and coins,
offerings left
in place of my own blood.
It’s a conversation that
will never be enough,
even when balance is maintained.
My passenger sits,
a still reminder
of the silent dreams
I carry every day.