For my Sister . . .

You taught me the earliest lesson of Family
Distance means nothing between hearts
and
Two weeks of Magic can sustain 50 more.
Summer 
equaled YOU
with towering hair and painted nails
and stories of fantasical places.
Eyes sparkling blue with 
mischief of Other
burrowing into the cocoon of my childhood.
Teaching me in so many ways
that LIFE existed beyond.
And, in absence, you sent  --
carried by dead presidents -- blue ink lines
on paper to fill
the 50 weeks of gone.
Punctuated by the sharp ring of
black, wall-tethered words over wires
to hold news too large to be carried in 
an envelope.

As I was perched on the edge of grown,
you signed me up for a
monthly magic show of
words and images.
The author even carried your name - - 
speaking about demanding change
and a Voice.
I clung to those pages,
a talisman against the sea of sameness
that swirled around, 
trying to swallow my Soul, 
giving me the courage to 
scream "NO" and became the
small-town epitome of DIFFERENT,
a fighter in a Revolution
lead by women named Gloria.

Years beyond I alone stand
a Bridge between generations
looking both back 
and beyond tomorrow.
The daemons that chased 
your Spirit wedged their way
through the cracks,
stealing you away into Darkness,
occasional streaks of light
both hotter and brighter than
the Sun until, at long last, 
the weight of the journey
brought you down.

Now I stand to say, THANK YOU -
for setting my course
and telling me I had a voice,
quietly demanding 
I use it
and not hide from
honeyed-words that,
in an instant, turn sharp
as a dagger
only defeated by speaking the
Truth.

. . . . . 

Death and Rebirth

Just as I was ready to
lay
down and die
the loss so great I could not
bear the weight
A miracle lifted me above
myself and I saw
the Road to Peace
and I chose
a different path.

Walls

The fear springs up
in a silent flash
even before I realize
I am enclosed
safe but
untouchable.

Sticky

Funny the stuff that
STICKS
camouflagued to blend into the fabric
is that the day to day
until a sudden glint of light reflects
what I had managed to forget. . .
my failed attempts to remove
the offending reminder are
revived and I try a new, better cleanser
that only mars the background and leaves
the stain vividly bright and raw once more. . .

Mirror

The Who I am
stands in stark contrast to who I see
looking into my eyes
from under roots of silver and lines
traced by years I let slip through my fingers
like so much sand at the beach

Mother Bear

You chose ME
because you knew
I would
protect HER. . .
you saw my role model
the Mother Bear
who put her cubs before
EVERYTHING and EVERYONE
and you knew
you wouldn't be around
to keep her safe
so
you chose me and now
I am
the Mother Bear. . .

No longer do I ask
'why did you leave?'

I see where you have gone
back to the safey of a childhood
'normal'
filled with conflict and drama and pain
just like Home.

Now I only can ask
'why did you stay so long?'