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He was already a man of few words

but her death left him completely silent 

and bereft

as if she took to heaven with her

whatever few words he had left.

Although the holidays can be a festive time…it can also be a time when we’re reminded of the precarious and fragile nature of life…a time we remember those not celebrating with us this year…a reminder of how our life is changed without them…It’s not that we will stop celebrating…only that our celebrations will never be the same…

A death leaves us forever somber…

surrounded by a cloud….

It’s not that we will never laugh again…

we’ll just never laugh as loud…

When we are sad the tears we form can be healing and satisfying…

What do we do when he have no tears left

but we haven’t finished crying?

Another person with a gun killing unsuspecting folks….

This latest one in California…at a bar in Thousand Oaks…

Each new shooting spree fails to bring us together

in fact it tears us more asunder… 

as again we cry for the victims

as again we’re left to wonder…

With each new murder of the masses

With each new innocent dying…

What do we do when we have no tears left

but we haven’t finished crying?

It saddens me to see the sorrow on each face

of those affected by this massacre

in this new time…

in this new place…

But knowing this is not the last time this will happen between our shores…

knowing this has become routine…

saddens me…

even more.

What do we do when faced with a reality

we have trouble justifying?

What do we do when we have no tears left

but we haven’t finished crying?

As he watched her sigh so plaintively

a sigh filled with sorrow and chagrin

it made him wonder 

if it isn’t sighs

that initiate the wind.

She did not want anyone to see her grief, 

her sorrow 

her sadness

her pain

So she waited for the clouds to form 

and did her crying in the rain.

The daughter picked up the tiny artificial Christmas tree her mom kept on the dresser by her bed

and, remembering its story…she gently bowed her head.

There was a time when her mom was young, when she was feeling a little blue

when she was sad, confused and worried…when she didn’t know what to do.”

A dear friend told her when things look bad to think about her Christmas tree.

That by Christmas time her worry would be gone and she’d see things differently.”

By Christmas time her friend said, gone will be your uncertainty, your misgivings and your doubt,

By Christmas time you’ll be wondering what you were ever so worried about.

The next day when she got home…she was surprised and excited to see

on this dresser…her friend had left her…this tiny Christmas tree.

From that day on whenever she was apprehensive…when her troubles flooded out

whenever she was overwhelmed with worry, or with doubt.

she would look at this little Christmas tree…”By Christmas time.” she’d say

and soon, as if by magic, her troubles would fade away.

The daughter had just come from her mom’s funeral, when tree in hand, a thought came to her head…

So she took it home and found a spot on the dresser by her bed.

She knows when she misses her mother…as she will most every day…

By Christmas time she’ll whisper…by Christmas time she’ll say 

The face on the lead balloon is yours,

and its wearing me down.

Why's,

there's no time, no space, no direction?

Float away please and leave, 

My feet on the ground.

It’s a forgetting day,

A day for yesterday’s memories,

To slide away,

Where warm breezy bright,

No longer lingers or remembers,

Any yester day or yester night.

It’s a forgetting day,

Under cloudy skies,

In lumbering quietness,

Perfectly lies,

An un-unforgettable day,

Leaden lined,

And numbling grey.

The willow grinned as the couple met…they were young…a bit afraid.

She smiled as she watch them fall in love beneath her shade.

The willow beamed when she saw them coming…she’d shake off her morning dew

honored they chose her shelter for their daily rendezvous.  

The willow frowned with sadness… something she’d never felt before…

as the boy placed a kiss upon the girl’s cheek…he was heading off to war.

“Wait for me”…he said to her…his touch giving her a thrill.

and the willow whispered with the girl…”I will…you know I will”.

And so they waited everyday…and everyday their hearts would yearn…

but war is cruel and callous…and the boy never returned.

The girl died of a broken heart…and now eternally sleeps…

The willow is still standing…but everyday…

she weeps.