Poem: Be Still With Me.

Be Still with Me.

Be still with me.
Feel my heartbeat,
know it, travel my journey

of a thousand cuts,
a thousand healings,
miracles of pain

That leave the most beautiful
scars.

===========

The picture was taken yesterday, 9-11, in Argyle, NY. We passed the firehouse on the way to church in the morning and these two men were standing stock-still at full attention. Hours later, when we drove home again, they were still there, perfectly in place, in honor of the lost of 9-11. Their stillness and honor was so much more touching, more real, more painful, than anything brought about by new, TV or the media. You can click on it for a larger version.

This brief poem is for all who carry with them deep hurts, that simply want them recognized and honored, however, or if, they have healed so far in their journey.

Tom

Poem: Twisted Limbs

Twisted Limbs

You stand and look at the tree,
not a passing glance, but a study
of it's wind blown limbs
and twisted branches,

torn by time and weather
into a gnarly tangle,
so like life, so intertwined
by struggle and pain,

yet still reaching upward,
always upward
towards the sun.

===============

The picture was taken along the coastline of Newport, Rhode Island. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

Beneath

Beneath the icy soil,
frozen in endless winter,
hard, like a shield,
something precious lies,

something unseen,
warm and fluid like love,
but frozen in time,
frozen in winter's fear,

at times seeping,
just enough
to know that all is not winter,
and so, you delve,

too often failing,
at times coming close,
perhaps someday,
to discover.

===============

The picture was taken near Dorset, VT. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom