A Broken Hallelujah

 

In a heart’s pure cry,

soaring notes seek redemption

while in brokenness.

Everlastingly,
the search seeks to find reasons

for the brokenness.

Confirm love’s true reach.

The plea rises and tumbles

out of brokenness.

Holding On

 

It seems I forget

my previous healthy state,

fooled by new normals.

My expectations

already lowered suffer

a further decline.

I seek to retain

my grasp of how good health feels,

not just to make do.

Figuring It All Out

 

Some people will claim

they have figured it all out,

and perhaps they have.

A big mystery,

the human experience,

it seems so to me.

Treating others well,

aiming to be of service;

that, I understand.

Gifts

 

An egret glides by.

Enthralled, I watch from above

my gift from nature.

I hear then the news.

Snow has buried the MidWest,

their gift from nature.

Whether hot or cold,

nature’s offerings beguile

a receptive mind.

Am I Really Brave?

Seeking bravery
when fear is overwhelming,
is that being real?

I feel like a wimp
if I focus on my fears
but they do exist.

Am I then a fraud
to talk braver than I feel
because I have to?

Their Cure and Mine

An MSer said,
"I found the solution.
I can walk again."

Noting what was said,
I adopted what I could
filled with optimism.

The fix did not come,
taunting and ephemeral
just beyond my grasp.

Stealing Walt's Lines

Walt Whitman said it.
“Do I contradict myself?"
I ask the same thing.

Sometimes I am up.
Other times I sure am not.
“I am large,” he said.

The poet explained
he “contained multitudes” and
I guess so do I.

The Human Will

The disease course looms
under shrouds of mystery
suppurating gloom.

Whatever solace
one can grasp and hold on to
affirms life’s value.

Courage will prevail.
Human will stubbornly seeks
lasting hope and joy.

Transformation

Borges spoke of his
blindness as an instrument
of transformation.

From miserable
circumstances may emerge
things deemed eternal.

The writer’s wisdom
spurs me to find gifts in loss,
my own alchemy.

I Would Rather

 

Have I told you yet?

I hate MS’s assault

on my poor body.

Do not be fooled, please.

I rise to the occasion

but still hate MS.

I would rather dance.

I would rather scale mountains,

moving well freely.

The Dream

 

Gossamer petals

suffused with the light of life

enchant with beauty.

Delicate, fragile,

renewed through nature’s cycle,

blossoms buoy hope.

Arid burnt out fields

present surviving flowers.

If them, why not me?

Negotiating Reality

 

Sometimes the sadness

overpowers me and blunts

believing in hope.

In a raw moment,

I surrender to despair,

losing hope's promise.

Negotiating

across the highs and the lows

challenges my will.

Attitude, Reality, and Resolve

I really believe

a winning attitude counts.

I always seek it.

The honest truth is

optimism may elude

my best intentions.

I renew daily

my resolve to keep finding

a foothold in hope.

Might Have Beens

 

It happens sometimes.

Longing for what might have been

holds me in its grip.

I cannot but think

I could have done so much more

with my potential.

I can never know

what heights I might have scaled

if not for MS.

It May Seem Like ...

A terrifying
tsunami of loss and doom
threatens to plunder.

One's strength cannot match
the wave’s relentless brute force.
One must go within.

Power in silence
willful surrender to peace
greater force is found.

Finding Bravery

Finding bravery,
how to keep it as a goal
when one feels afraid?

The truth of my life,
it falls short of the ideal.
I am not that brave.

For indulging me
in my rambling self pep talks,
I thank my blog peeps.

Seeking the Improbable



I keep believing

my body’s capacity

for self healing reigns.

Surely keys exist

I can use to open doors

unleashing good health.

I will keep searching

despite how improbable

solutions may seem.

Afterwards

After a life storm,
elusive recovery
taunts and beckons both.

One knows the way out.
The brain signals: just move on.
The heart is too tired.

The healing process,
finding acceptance and trust,
all will bide their time.

Renewal’s Promise

Below the surface
of deeply frozen terrain,
life still manifests.

Life in dormancy
becomes a promise to keep
with its renewal.

How soon life restores
may be out of one’s control,
but it can happen.

In Memoriam - George, The Greek from Detroit

I weep as I write.
George has died after fighting
his cruel battle.

Courage and resolve
marked Greek’s approach to MS.
Then mercy failed him.

I say this to George:
a warrior never dies;
only, his battles.

Fear's Great Foe

Breathe, I tell myself.
Breathe deeply and then again.
Stay in the present.

My uncertainty,
already high on the scale,
can self multiply.

The way out from fear,
overwhelming though it be,
is found here and now.

Valor in Costume

So much courage hides
behind a determined smile,
in an unseen pain.

Soft spoken at times,
our sorrow goes underground.
We may fool others.

Valor has honor,
though we may not recognize
the hurt it costumes.

Fun Therapy

Expanding the brain
though it threatens to seize up
is my drug of choice.

So I go to school.
The discussion and laughter
make me come alive.

My brain loves to dance.
Who knows where it will take me?
At least we have fun.

Results Might Seem Strange

We tend to believe
humans are nature’s axis.
Then we are surprised.

Nature’s will to thrive
respects no human constructs
standing in its way.

Though results seem strange,
nature’s grand plan embraces
its own renewal.

The Will to Renew

It surprises me.
Faced with disheartening odds,
one can choose to smile.

The human spirit
stuns with its resolute will
to keep marching on.

The new beginnings,
fool’s errand or found wisdom,
will keep arriving.

The Stalwart’s Question

A wind-blown prairie,
solace denuded and shorn,
life can seem that way.

I hold on to hope,
dust-blown and fast eroding,
when all else leaves me.

Holding fast is hard.
One storm follows another.
Will the winds die down?

A Reluctant Truth?

What ingredient
self rising and insistent
explains dogged hope?

What twist of life’s plan,
what warped strain of providence,
grants undeserved loss?

The error may be
thinking goodness in practice
results in its like.

At Times ...

A call for silence,
a time to regenerate,
these needs keen loudly.

Rustling leaves take pause.
Technology’s shrillness too
wanes respectfully.

Within the stillness,
new growth finds a safe harbor.
Restoration starts.

It Comes Down to This

I would rather try
something with quite low prospects
than not try at all.

Hope opens many
doors of opportunity
otherwise closed off.

I want to expand
my life beyond subsistence,
thriving despite lack.

Lasting Quest

Delicate and strong,
a snowflake imparts beauty,
opposites combined.

Seeking harmony
in disjoined communities,
nature offers strength.

If only we could
mimic nature’s lasting quest
to seek harmony.

I Must Remember This

Unstinting belief
life has meaning regardless
blunts despair’s power.

Pursuit of meaning
deflects nihilism’s command
as a driving force.

Whether through someone,
an object or idea,
a life’s worth matters.

Endurance

I do not know how
I will manage to endure,
but I know I shall.

Life’s trajectory
guarantees little indeed.
One can only hope.

I tap into roots
spiritual and grounded.
My center will hold.

Waiting

Crackling and barren,
burdened slender boughs struggle.
Their shadows mimic.

Strength in stark beauty,
monotonic in shading,
essentials lay stripped.

Beneath the deadness,
renewal and hope await
their life cycle turn.

Only a Witness

A breeze wafts on wings,
invisible yet present,
passing with whispers.

What mystery comes
in near silence while passing,
powerful in deed.

Full comprehension
eludes my cognitive skills.
It may never come.

A New Start Beckons

It has been a while.
Life wrenched in odd twists and turns
testing my mettle.

Wisdom still slips past
full comprehension and grasp.
Life can just be hard.

Small mercies cast hope
lighting paths out of despair
while I seek healing.

My head slowly lifts.
The moon sets. The sun rises.
A new start beckons.

My wounds slowly heal.
Full restoration falls short,
but I keep hoping.

Treasured companions
sharing my winding pathways
buoy my spirits.

I Must Go On Leave

God, grant me serenity to
Accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can, and
Wisdom to know the difference.

Answers?

Imponderables
fast and furious they come.
My head is spinning.

Easy answers stir
my imagination’s hopes,
only to fall short.

The harder answers
might enable hope and joy.
I have to find them.

Tribute

Pellucid blue sky
caressing breeze wafts across
the chirp of crickets.

A scent of mint lifts,
through airborne fluttering leaves,
a spirit brought low.

My arms undulate
in tribute to life's promise
expressed through nature.

Ode to Glimmer

A self awareness
the probable is gloomy
threatens the spirit.

Like poet Keats odes,
I must find beauty even
while the outlook dims.

What glimmer I find
sustains me from breath to breath.
It makes life worthwhile.

Fancy, Mercy, and the Heart

Is it fanciful
to think I have the power
to slay this disease?

Is it merciful
to believe for a moment
I am in control?

It is heartbreaking
to confront reality
and fear what awaits.

Despite My Best Intentions

Despite my running
my metaphorical mile,
joy may elude me.

Some things are final.
Death is one such instance where
no second chance comes.

Short of death I cling
to life’s possibilities
until I cannot.

Thrill? Not So Much

Rollercoaster rides,
they used to be so much fun,
but not anymore.

Recent ups and downs
tested endurance limits.
I want to dismount.

I stumble away,
tired, soothing my bruised spirits,
seeking peace again.

My Train

Sputtering along,
my train reaches the station,
still more stops to go.

Once past the station,
the wheels scale the steep incline
in hard fought inches.

The drop would be deep
if the train were to derail.
It just cannot fail.

The Power of Redundancy

A caterpillar
strolls along on many legs,
a redundancy.

If one leg should fail,
a caterpillar will not
likely appear drunk.

With only two legs,
only one of which works well,
I often seem drunk.

Beckoning Whispers

Dappled light whispers.
Palm fronds brush the shifting sands.
I watch and reflect.

Far in the distance,
the horizon beckons with
possibility.

“I am here,” it says.
“You can still try and reach me.”
“You must not give up.”

Where Greatness Comes

Life offers daily
opportunities to rise
to strength and courage.

The normal humdrum
monotony of choices
grants chances to shine.

Greatness of spirit
fostered in little moments
yields honor and worth.

Valuing the Familiar

The new MS me,
predisposed to falls and spins,
seeks stable anchors.

My external world
sadly spun out of control,
now in correction.

I stare at my walls –
sturdy, safe, familiar –
still stunned but grateful.

Being Honest

I work hard at self
acceptance and improvement
as others pass me.

Sliding new normals
suggest adaptation comes,
whatever happens.

I want renewal,
not a ghost of me embraced
when the old me left.

Praise

The power of praise
surprises with the strength of
its simplicity.

A blindfold is torn.
S/he who praises gains despite
conflicting data.

Though not based on facts,
praise is a course correction
for promise and hope.

There Must Be a Way

How do I find peace?
So much of what I value
is under assault.

There must be a way
I can rise above the threat
of calamity.

Seeking the bounty
even amid scarcity
is a beginning.

What I Now Realize

Safe in a cocoon,
spun to manage my new life,
I release the world.

The world will go on.
Its own set of assumptions
may differ from mine.

I should not be shocked
when conflicting aims intrude
to challenge my peace.

What Awaits Now

Nature can restore
connections to life’s rhythms
if one can but hear.

Slowly I begin
listening to the pelting
raindrops descending.

This time to reset
now in the present moment
chases gloom away.