What Matters

Uploaded from a 2011 TED talk "The Rediscovery of Wonder"

Uploaded from a 2011 TED talk “The Rediscovery of Wonder”

In the things that matter there is a hunger
It arrives, first, as desperation and fear
But like stages of grief it changes
Initially, it comes and is denied
Then raged at for its lack of presence
Finally, pleaded with to come soon
Then silence

Eventually the things that matter
Arise out of us to be fed
Not by another, but by our own heart
This is met with mild disbelief
Then curiosity
Finally, delicious amusement
Then silence

Poor Man’s Shadow

Life in Concrete: Photo by Noelle

Life in Concrete: Photo by Noelle

She asks what I want. Such a loaded question. No exit. I want, I want many things but purse strings wrap at my knees and I feel myself falling into her question. I look up. She wants to please me. Her love a warm blanket, tattered but whole. That moneyless handbag dangles off her arm and it’s not the elephant in the room, but rather the herd. I don’t know why she’s asking when there is no way to fill my hunger. I want to tell her not to ask me anymore for my insides she can’t fill. Best not to ask and let me gnaw on my own wants as dog bones left on the floor.

Still, she waits and there’s the tension. The longing to be true and answer with my greatest heart’s desire, because her love deserves that much. Yet to answer is to darken her eyes with that poor man’s shadow. He lingers with his empty pockets in the hallway jingling keys to fool you it was money. I hear him louder sometimes than I hear her. Still, she’s waiting.

I want to love her with an answer she can meet, but all my small hopes are used up. I got nothing but big heart yearnings left and I feel like she can see them straight up, though I’ve worked hard to hide them in the wood pile. “What do you want,” she asks now exasperated. I shove my hands in my pockets, “Nothin’, mama. I’m good.”

I see her sorrow and I eat it whole, like her biscuits. It’s all that’s on the table.

Work in progress from “The Writer’s Church” writing group, Boulder, CO. Hosted by Marj Hahne


Image pulled from The Mind Unleashed Facebook page

Image extracted from The Mind Unleashed Facebook page

A great hunger in the heart
Deep in cavernous chest
Pounding drums I hear
Binding me to lover’s quest

No fear of the longing
No weakness in the bones
Courage like a bow
Strung tight, arrow honed

All cells line up
Along a magnetic field
I am the compass pointing north
My love I wield

Awakening a memory
Forgotten in all but a dream
Leaving an illusion
Nothing is as it seems

Passion is the blood water
That traverses the river vessels true
Flooding the body hot
A mind awash with your hues

Pulse racing, sweat pooling
Canyon lands laid bare
A tempo to be sated
In dark hours, boundless to share

The scent lingers on the skin
Hand rests lazy on the breast
Warm are the muscles, mingled
Ah my love I now must rest