Monday, September 26, 2011

Friday, September 23, 2011

thoughts on PTSD

Stored away days
I walked barefoot in my childhood,
A longing to feel the wet sand,
As they squished under my heels,
A child I was -  then, youth bulged my seams,
My alertness, my thoughts,
All condensed to one-,ME,
Life condensed to waste at its edges,
Yet I forget life’s many nuances,
Some I wish to push into oblivion,
Yet they pursue me ceaseless,
Now as I read, molecules of the mind,
I glance ,stare even , to past, future,
All entwined in  today…
Attempt to find an overall scheme to life,
Sigh at what was laid to waste,
Just to appease some wrathful demi-god,
Obliged demi-gods or demons; all to survive…
Tomorrow, I leave again,
To gather up some dusty memories, as I lunch with friends,
All to enliven a youth again, though briefly,
As my alerting networks awaken in memories,…
A gladness, a lightness in my steps, for stored away days
But beneath them lie yet some—
They poke their brazen tendrils in nightmares,
In startles grown to stiffness,
Yes, they poke through ,even so far removed,
At times to lay heavy as a mantle again.

Monday, September 19, 2011

In memory of...

In memory of...
 As I pass the drive way, I realize Barbara, you have become a memory  once again, only now it has to remain so. On some crisp day in september, so long ago, you were there  as just a faint memory, an extension of a description that came alive as my daughter described her day. Then you became imprinted in my tenuous memory as Max's mom, and as descriptions flowed so you filled into them ..she who got her off from the bus one day, who got her on the bus yet another time, one who helped her cross the street, who helped  get fluffy from under the deck,...As the days progressed and my days blurred into nights to re-awaken as mornings, Barbara you became a glimpse , who waved as she walked max to the bus stop.Then . I passed you with a quick wave, all the while looking at the clock, speeding on with the trepid realisation that I would be late for work again, yet I never thought that some day it would be too late to say aloud many a thought, say how your  little acts made such a difference in each of our days.
Thoughts have a way of crowding into our mind some times, almost to spilling over uncalled, yet sometimes they  hold  off from taking any form,just staying tenous , amorphous...
One day as the leaves shivered on the oak outside my window, I woke with a distinct thought that I wanted to talk to you...a thought that stayed just nudging at the edges of my mind, sometimes filling  it to the brim, yet I tarried.
Now I want to think , nay I almost understand that  you probably knew,you probably understood all that was left unsaid.
I had wanted to say thank you for every little kind act...all those times when it made a difference in the turns of all our lives,like the time you drove my son for an exam when the bus did not come on time, like the time when my daughter could be safe,  or that time when you just talked to my oldest one, or just those times when your words of encouragement sustained me.
Sometimes I look back at life and realize how a small act by another held such a momentous impact, though quietly they changed the course of our lives so.
So thank you for being there freind, neighbor, keeper of life's sanctity.