Unglued

This is response poem to receiving love and acceptance from Rock Mcilvain, a new father figure in my life.

I couldn't quite continue the way I was,
and to my knowledge, nothing was wrong,
but I was stuck--
stuck with this feeling that nothing mattered
much

It's such a sad place to be really,
that 'I could do better, but I don't really want to' state.
And, everything around you is designed to atropy
without you, the gardener, to set it right

I stayed there.

And, then I looked at what I could be, and I prayed.

And, I stayed there.

And, then I reasoned why I should change, asked for prayer, prayed.

And, then stayed there.

Well, not really stayed. I was fine for a day or maybe a few hours,
but then the sadness and despondency grew in me again.

Why do we with all our needs met, education and choices feel sad?
Love's waxed cold.
My core was dried, solidified.
My earth was not the moving flames that it should be until he said
he loved me.

And, my heart returned to what it was, a flowering strub
for beauty and touch -- moving the life and the blood
for others

for others.

---

A New Thing

I've always seen the light in my eyes as the good pleasure of others.
What does it serve for me, when I hardly see myself.

I am a new thing, a being, a flame of love.
Shall I burn or I warm you?