Words Are Not Enough

Photo by wewe yang on Pexels.com
I am on my knees 
Breathless from the radiance in my chest
My cheeks are streaked with tears of humility and appreciation
And I am humbled by the grace shown to me by those who know me
And some who don't
I never realized how hard it is to ask for help until I needed to do it
Until I put down pride, removed my gauntlets, and stepped aside 
Vulnerable and scared
And let people see I needed them
And they showed up
They offered in ways I never could have imagined
With selfless generosity soaked thoroughly in their love
Concerned about my well being and success
And not returns and reciprocation
It's difficult not to feel like I need to do something
Say something
Offer something more than gratitude in return
So I come here to this blank page to release my love
To try to give voice to my gratitude in a sorely inadequate way
In an attempt to say, Thank you, to everyone
Thank you so much
-gws

My Hummingbird

Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.com
My hummingbird visited me today
She was excited to remind me how she told me that everything would be okay
Her last visit was to remind me that the Goddess had not turned from me
This visit was to celebrate good news finally come
How blessed I am to be able to converse with messengers of the Divine
How lucky I am to recognize them
I will miss her as her home is here, and now my home will be elsewhere
She and her family have been such wonderful neighbors and delightful friends
I will miss watching them play amongst the branches of the front trees
Now they will have new friends to meet 
May they be good and gentle ones

I love you, tiny, shiny friend
Thank you for your friendship
Thank you for your work as a messenger
May your life be full of bright flowers and sweet nectar
Warm sunshine and gentle breezes
And when you one day return to our Mother
May Her garden be the temple of respite you so deserve

-gws
@wordswishesandwisdom

My Hummingbird written and read by GWS wordswishesandwisdom poetry poetrytok poem poet writer need

♬ original sound – GWS

Broken Things

Photo by Dominika Kwiatkowska on Pexels.com
I have a special talent for finding broken things
I find the problems that no one else notices
I find the shards of glass that evade discovery
I find the people who silently wish someone would see their pain
I do not find to fix
I do not wish to mend
I do not seek out what is damaged
I just have the ability to see what tends to go unseen
To really shine a light into the flaws 
I bare witness to what most people rush past
Maybe this is because I'm curious
Maybe because I am willing to shift my perspective 
In ways others lack the imagination for
It is a talent and a curse
This ability manifests in all areas of my life
It shows up in the mundane and in the significant
In my tasks and in my relationships
I don't know why I have this gift
I'm not sure if I'm using it as expected or intended
I do accept it for what it is
I accept that it brings both pain and triumph
I acknowledge this talent
I acknowledge its significance
I am an agent of the Universe
A servant of the greater good
Touching both the rose and the thorn
The beauty and the pain
And being of service to the greater good
Seeing what is neglected or invisible
Advocating
Listening
Bearing witness 
With honesty and earnestness
-gws

Listen

A conversation with God

Photo by Sindre Stru00f8m on Pexels.com
Why can't I hear you?
Because you are not quiet.
Why can't I feel you?
Because you are not still.
Why can't I trust you?
Because you are surrendering to fear and not faith.

I am speaking to you in songs on the radio.
I am comforting you when you feel the breeze drying your tears.
I am supporting you even though you feel you are falling.
I am reminding you that I am with you in conversations with your friends.

My love is stronger than your doubt.  
My strength is greater than your fear.
My arms surround you when you grieve.
My cheers lift you when you achieve.

I know you are facing what feels insurmountable.
I know you are grieving and frightened.
You must remember that I will not abandon you.
You must remember that I will see you through.

You are my child.
Made from stardust and moonlight.
I will believe in you when you do not believe in yourself.
I will stand strong when your knees buckle.
I will hold vigil when you walk through darkness.
I will love you through all things.

-gws


Prison of Anxiety

Photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.com
I sit in the prison of your anxiety
The ever-moving labyrinth of mood and emotion
Worry and fear
Shame and anger
Afraid to disturb the shadows or sigh too deeply
In case my breath causes you to erupt
I fear drawing your attention by moving too quickly
Like drawing the attention of immortal beings in fairy tales
If I run, it will draw your ire
If I sit silently, you might forget I'm here
And never turn your flaming eyes in my direction
I hide when you seek me
I cannot heal or help
I cannot hold you up
Your fear and anger sharpen your tongue to a razor's edge
And I have scars upon scars
There is no reason in your mental prison
Rational thought cannot survive there
Though I love you, I cannot survive here
Amongst the rage and blame and shame and fear
I cannot be your comfort and your enemy
I cannot continue to be torn by your dichotomy
You may be fractured, but I wish to be whole
When the dawn comes, I will choose me
And leave the dark to you

-gws


On Joy

Photo by Matheus Bertelli on Pexels.com
My word for the new year is "joy"
This is not a word I feel in my bones right now
The feel of it in my mouth is foreign
I cannot swallow it because it catches in my throat
But it doesn't want to crawl back out
It wants to be consumed so it can plant itself inside of me
It wants to grow and flourish like a flowering vine
Wrapping itself around my heart and soul 
And pulling me out of fear and despair
Joy wishes to drop its seeds into my darkness like a lotus
Where they can take root and bloom within my disturbance
Transforming my world from muddy hopelessness
Into vibrant newness and luminous hope
-gws
 

The Sidewalk Philosopher

Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com
I met him at a crossroad
He was a simple man
Humble and plain
A working man
His hands were calloused
His beard untamed
When he spoke he used simple words
But his concepts were anything but
His truths were delivered through deeply contemplated stories
And from unfathomable wells of experience
I found myself excitedly anticipating his next fragment of wisdom
I wanted to string them into a necklace I could carry with me
And reflect upon
He didn't think himself wise but he was
He couldn't see himself the way I could
He couldn't hear how his unassuming words danced and sang
like the music of windchimes
A masterpiece created in the moment
Rare and beautiful 
And so briefly born into the world
That if you didn't pay attention you would miss it all
Whenever I visited those crossroads I looked for him
And when he was there I'd sit at his feet and just listen
Letting his stories and experience wash over me and fill my cup
With his own unique brew to wake up my soul
Awakening a new perspective on my own experiences
And I took it all in with more gratitude than he'd ever know
-gws

Forty-Six

Photo by Bellava G on Pexels.com
This weekend sees another rotation around the sun completed
This weekend sees me trying to solve some of the hardest challenges of my adulthood
This weekend sees me reluctant to do any celebrating

Forty-six

Forty-six years of joys and heartaches
Of tryings and learnings
Of experimentation and exploration
I think on the six year old me
The sixteen year old me
The twenty-six year old me
The thirty-six year old me
Each of these stages of my life reflect a different person than I am now
Softer, more optimistic, more naive and innocent versions of me
I am grateful for all of my experiences as they have shaped me
They have forged me in fire and tempered me in ice water
My scars and wounds show that I have lived and loved
They show that I have tried and failed and gotten back up

I am graced to have the gift of experience and perspective
For you can only obtain these gifts by living
Although I may not be bathing in the contentment I dreamed I'd have at this age
The journey is not over
There are more tales to be lived and pages to be written
More love to be given and received
Everyday that the sun rises, there is hope to create the narrative I want for myself

Being an adult is scary and contrary to popular belief
No one knows what they are doing
We're all just making it up as we go along
And trying to learn from those who have already been there
There's no getting it right
Only doing our best at every step we're able to take

So here's to forty-six
May dreams manifest
May peace prevail
May I continue to grow, and love, and learn in all things I do
-gws