adultry

not to be discussed

publically.  born of boredom;

sun-baked land dries up

curious about

why repetitive

actions persist sunrise to

sunset, year after year

the void

towels folded perfectly.

lawn of the month.  money in the

bank.  what is missing?

downward spiral

sinking below the

waterline i remember

hope is suffering

 

Denial

reoccurrence – what

does that mean?  how can something

that never happened

happen again?

deepest sleep

dark black heavy safe

buried under layers of

warmth is death so bad

so damn hard

ego wants to keep

it defend it make it stop

changing too damn bad

Denial

the invisible

remote controlled stealth drone

aimed to kill at will

Mother F _ _ ker! for Virginia

Angry yes I am angry

that cancer the

indestructible weed

is hell-bent on destroying

the beautiful garden

of my life

March 17-One Year, One Day at aTime – tough day – heavy

Coming home today, driving through the flat farmlands of Illinois, watching the sun rise over the pine trees and color just the tips with a hint of rose, I realized my life has once again changed and there is no going back.   I have cancer, again.  I still have no idea what  that will entail, what choices I will make or what treatments I will receive, but I do know that this is a turning point of some sort or another.

When my son asked me today how I liked his new haircut, I said, “Not so much.”  “Why,” he asked, “what’s don’t you like about it?”  “It makes your head look big around the top,” I answered. He just looked at me and I said, “Don’t ask me if you do not want to know what I really think.”  You see I have always said to my son, what I thought he needed to hear.  I never wanted to hurt his feelings.  I have done that with many others as well.  He asked a simple question, I gave him a direct answer.  I want others to do the same for me.  Direct, honest, bare bones.  Let’s just have it straight up.  No rocks.

Anyway, we went on to talk about other things.  Things change.  I am changing.  He is changing.  Why is it so scary to change.  After he left it felt as it the ground were shifting underneath my feet.  What was firm just a week ago is now silty and permeable.  Change, although inevitable, is unsettling.  I keep thinking about Pema Chodron, who writes with such wisdom and elegance about the ways we try to stave off change only to eventually have to embrace its inevitability.  The Three Little Pigs want to hold up in the house of straw, but the wolf is at the door.  Shit, let him blow the fucking house down.  We will build another one.

We will overcome.  We will overcome or in the words of Mahalia Jackson:

Mahalia Jackson—We Shall Overcome

We shall overcome, we shall overcome,
We shall overcome someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We shall overcome someday.

The Lord will see us through, The Lord will see us through,
The Lord will see us through someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We shall overcome someday.

We’re on to victory, We’re on to victory,
We’re on to victory someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We’re on to victory someday.

We’ll walk hand in hand, we’ll walk hand in hand,
We’ll walk hand in hand someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We’ll walk hand in hand someday.

We are not afraid, we are not afraid,
We are not afraid today;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We are not afraid today.

The truth shall make us free, the truth shall make us free,
The truth shall make us free someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
The truth shall make us free someday.

We shall live in peace, we shall live in peace,
We shall live in peace someday;
Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe,
We shall live in peace someday.

The truth will set us free.  Speak your truth.  When you learn more, if it changes, be humble enough to admit that you now know more and want to recant.

Love and Light, Sarla