Inaction to Decision

Sometimes the sun goes ’round the moon.
There isn’t a lot left to do,
He’s been found again and again.
Even more ripples in the sand, growing and growing and growing.
 
Before it all they’d been so close,
Even apart they’d known they were united.
Siblings in all but blood,
Their souls knew one another as soon as their eyes met.
You wondered how you’d make it through.
For years and years they fought side by side
Only for it to change in the blink of an eye;
Right and wrong changed in his mind.
 
Lost and confused, he didn’t know which way to turn.
A far away dream or the life he’d always had?
Silly though it may seem, he found this life was not
The one for him; he chose to drift away.
But now we’re standing face-to-face.
Years went by and she did not stay his hand
Only stepped in after the damage was done,
Undoing what she could and mourning what she can’t.
 
When finally she was there, catching him in the act.
Events slowed to a crawl and his face morphed from glee to disdain.
Not going to stop me? he asked, taunting her with her inabiltiy.
The moment passed and steel encased her heart.
Just when I thought our chance had passed.
Anceint responsibilites flooded her mind and she knew she could
Never let him complete another actions like this.
Don’t think, she spoke with ice, that inaction equals inability.
 
Silvery light tinged red flooded her hands
And a sword sharp and ready grew within the plam.
Vengence was not on her mind as she swing the blade
Even though this man in front had killed her brother before all else.
Deadened eyes still wept as the dance of death began.
You go and save the best for last.
-Vanessa Williams

Inspired by the song “Save the Best for Last” by Vanessa Williams running through my head all morning. It would not leave me alone and this story/poem demanded to be written as a result.

Also, I’m slightly mourning the lack of Trifectra prompt/challenge for this week even though I understand the reasons behind it closing.

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Friday Afternoon

It’s warm today, a sunlit room
My day has slowly gone.
I’ve watched few things
Begin and end:
Shows and movies and books on file,
Nothing really seems worthwhile.
 
Children arrive stumbling through the door,
School’s out and now I’m in for more.
Screaming and fighting,
They’re too excited for the week to end.
I’m through with this!
They’ll drive me ’round the bend!
 
Watching them buzz,
Around and Around,
How do they keep going and going?
Where does the reservoir end?
Trying to direct them is half the task,
The other is keeping on the patient mask.
 
I must shake my head at myself,
Listening to off key singing is far too amusing.
Lyrics parroted back still  in keeping with the beat,
The other doing a credible imitation of rap on the street.
My kitty, so soft and sweet, climbs up on my lap,
Making sure to bump my face and give me my love tap.
 
A knock on the door receives not a single surprise,
A friend wants to play with very hopeful eyes.
Except works not yet done,
Just a little bit left to do.
Somehow I don’t think I’ll make it through,
Just a little bit more to do…
 
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image: martha0stout’s phone

It’s Raining, It’s Storming…

Yesterday it rained a lot (it’s still raining/snowing off and on today actually…) but I was reminded of something that happened several years ago.

Several years ago, when I was first in my twenties, a new library had opened up near our house. My mother, my sister and I went for the day to get some books and a few other things done (we didn’t have internet at the time). It was raining so hard that the librarians had to turn off the automatic function of the doors into the library because the rain kept setting them off!

I’d never seen it rain so much in my entire life!

I had grown up in a desert that required extensive canal-work in order to make it livable. Luckily for me, the canal system had been put in about 100 years before I was even born, so that work was done already. I hadn’t ever really realized I lived in a desert because there were trees everywhere and though it was always really hot in the summer and we didn’t have a lot of rain, there were plants that wouldn’t have survived on their own initially in a desert.

Half a year before the library doors incident, I’d gone on a very long road trip with my family to California. (One of my sisters was moving there and we all drove her and her stuff out there because it was summer and no one had school. Getting work off was fun, but doable.) I had never seen so much green in one place! That was when it really hit me: I lived in the middle of a desert!

So, fast forward half a year.

It’s raining so hard we’re having flooding everywhere, automatic doors have to be turned off and someone manning them in order to let customers/patrons in and out of the building. You walk outside for one whole minute and when you walk back in, you’re soaked like you jumped into a swimming pool fully clothed. (Which was a funny story, but I’m not talking about it right now. And yes, we actually timed the one minute thing just to be sure.)

I wondered if this was what monsoon season looked like in certain parts of the world.

The reason this story was on my mind was because we had gone to the library to take care of some things and pick up a few books (gardening books are all the rage at my house right now…) and I was reminded of that day so many years ago. The rain yesterday wasn’t even that heavy, it just gave me a small feeling of nostalgia to remember a time when it had rained so hard.

I have never seen it rain that hard since.

Love In the Strangest of Places

What would you do on your wedding day? Do you get married at a historical site, in a registrar’s office or at a court house? Do you get married in a temple or a synagogue or a chapel or other religious place? do you then have a wedding party luncheon and a reception in the evening?

I am not married. Out of my eight siblings, five of them have married and each ceremony and/or reception was a little different. But none of them held a reception or luncheon quite like this one.

Picture this:

A beautiful bride, resplendent in her gown, her hair done just right, makeup stunning and jewelry elegant. Her groom, handsome in his suit, hair and beard trimmed neatly, waiting patiently for his bride to place her hand in his.

They say their ‘I do’s and still in their wedding clothes begin to hand out sandwiches to those who are homeless in several parks near where the wedding ceremony takes place.

What?

Why are they doing that? That’s a little odd. Shouldn’t they change first at least?

Not the newly married Deven and Ressurrection Graves. This couple has an unusual beginning. They met in a homeless shelter in Washington, D.C. Deven courted and wooed Ressurrection over the course of several months before she agreed to become Mrs. Graves and they were married two years later on the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, which is also the same anniversary of when Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his ‘I have a dream’ speech.

This couple still works with the homeless to this day through a non-profit organization that they founded. It’s called Glory Soldiers Global.

You might be wondering why I’m blogging about this so late at night. I was just sending a last email before bed to several members of my church, once logging out I did a quick browse of the current news available and stumbled across an article of this couple (http://www.today.com/news/couple-who-met-homeless-shelter-pay-it-forward-help-others-2D12089799). Their story touched my heart and I knew that I had to write about it before I went to bed while it was still fresh in my mind. I have a bad habit about forgetting to do something with it comes to writing sometimes. (Which isn’t good as that is kind of my job outside of being a homemaker.)

Even if their story doesn’t catch your interest the way it did mine, I hope that you take a moment to check out the webpage for their non-profit Glory Soldiers Global (http://www.glorysoldiersglobal.org/).

And the next time you see someone who doesn’t have a steady roof over their head, remember this: they can become anyone if only they’re given a little bit of hope for their future.

Absent

What’s love got to do with it, got to do with it? …Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken. -Tina Turner

When you love someone, you give them the power to hurt you. The more you love them, the more power they have until they hold enough to completely destroy your life.

If you’re a special kind of lucky, then they can destroy the lives of those around you as well.

She missed her family, missed them with something that boarded on hysteria if she allowed herself time to think about it. But she didn’t really have much of a choice here.

(She was lying to herself, she had a choice. It’s just that the consequences of the other choices available weren’t something that she could live with.)

Mary glanced back at where her sons were sleeping. She’d left the cameras installed after Warren had left out of reflex. If it took longer than they’d initially predicted then he’d still be able to watch over his family even if he couldn’t be there in person. The fact that she now needed to use them for the same purpose was not reassuring.

“Maybe I should have left this to Al to take care of like he offered,” she murmured to herself as her youngest rolled over in bed, his face scrunching up.

Matt was likely having a nightmare, again. And she wasn’t there to sooth him through it should it actually wake him up this time. She’d likely not be there in the morning either.

It broke her heart to know that she was losing both her sons so slowly, but as Warren had said when they’d first separated, if they would live to grow up then the price was worth it.

Joy Streaked Sorrow

Gone for so long
I reach out once more.
I’m afraid to move on,
But I know the future is more.
 
This time not forgotten,
I will carry it always.
Within my heart.

Written for the final prompt from Trifectra: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2014/03/trifextra-week-105.html

I’ve seen many things end and begin in my life, even if they are not things that are on a stage like Trifectra. They have been something to me and though I have mourned their ending, knowing that each ending can be another’s beginning has given me joy within that sorrow.

Thank you, Trifectra editors, your challenges helped me learn that you can say a lot with only a little.