sometimes when i miss my mother
i feel for the pulse on the wrist of my wife
hers is steady and strong
  
waiting there
as my mother slowly slipped away
a nurse taught me how to find the pulse

in her final moments
when she stopped breathing
her heart ceased beating
and her pulse faded away
i felt it in my fingertips

so now

sometimes when i miss my mother
i feel for the pulse on the wrist of my wife
hers is steady and strong  
and i know exactly where to find it

She’s a room of golden light,
but one drawer stays shut tight.

She laughs like wind through open doors,
yet guards a key beneath the floor.

I never ask, I never pry
some stars were made to burn and lie.

Still, I stay, though I can't see
the secret she keeps away from me.

Someone I loved once gave to me
A box of night, no lock, no key.
I held it close with trembling hands
Not knowing then its strange demands.

It whispered cold, it swallowed light
It taught me silence, sleepless nights.
I cursed its weight, I grieved its cost
A symbol of the love I’d lost.

But seasons turned, as seasons do
And cracks let in a deeper truth.
Within that dark, a seed was sown
A strength I never would have known.

Now looking back, I see it clear
The gift was pain, the gift was fear.
But in its heart, a truth would lift
That even sorrow hides a gift.

Slowly , slowly the sun awakens
Lighting the soft,dark ,velvet night
Blowing out the stars like candles
Dimming the light of the silver moon

Gently waking the birds from their slumber
To sing their joyful morning song
Shedding its light high over the treetops
Beckoning to the flowers below

Shining on the dew laden grass
Glistening like a carpet of diamonds
Like millions of prisms catching a rainbow
Such beauty to behold

Spreading its light , spreading its warmth
Turning the sky to azure blue
Casting its rays to light the day
It's morning's work is done

Slowly , slowly the sun dips down
Heralding  the end of another day
Gently stroking all life to sleep
Beckoning the soft, dark, velvet night

when I was six,
I always asked my mom
to check under my bed
she'd smile, tuck me in
and say, “it's all in your head”

the monster—in my mind
hid in the shadows
and kept me awake
left me with an uneasy feeling
I just can't seem to shake

but when I grew up
I didn't fear monsters
not anymore
so I got on my knees
and laid my head on the floor

the monster stared back at me
its eyes colored crimson
but they were meek
not scary, not daunting
just a little weak

it gently reached out to me
with slender fingers
sharp claws in its end
it didn't feel like a foe
but almost like a friend

I found comfort
within the darkness
made peace with the unknown
the monster—wasn't so much of a monster
on the days I felt all alone