HEAVEN'S HOPE and so you thought you knew about mothers

HEAVEN'S HOPE

Yes that is IT
Write it all down before you forget
NO edit no curls of dreams to cloud the mind today

Pieces of stories all rolled up like used cigarettes stumped out before their finish

Write it before the dark clouds of forgetfulness come rolling in
Like the tide stealing every hope of redemption ever held by man

Write it free verse so that when snatches of light cross the mind
they may shimmer for a second before igniting- flairing- and disappearing

Fireworks like the shattering of glass when the end came
When the world that you loved thought you failed miserably

The fairy tale that life provided did not have its happy ending and the manure of daily living begins to be a sweet memory

The rain had started slowly with the gentle rhythm of the beat rolling along like the last parade

She marched with face turned up to the indigo sky
The rain washed some of the days dirt from her face and hands-- it felt like being loved again

Warm smooth juicy quiet because they never came after her in the rain

No one left their shelter because the rain always left pain after it dried
and for every drop there was a new tear in her heart
But that was so much better than the dirt of the day

Her hair had fallen out after it turned the cloudy white of summer sunset at the edge of the land
That cloudy pale blue white haze that tells you--maybe-- tomorrow will come--but maybe not

It is hard to keep track of time--it marches thru every once in awhile day to night--night to day with huge holes chucked throughout until the cold or heat comes again.

Long ago far away when life held meaning and light she remembers a perfect day

Warm sunny along a beach lying on a soft towel filled with gritty sandy crystals her daughters had left as they exhaust themselves with cartwheels--running--jumping-- collecting shells and sandy treasures brought back to shake on her with the excitement of the find

They dig deep holes to build their dream castles and decorate with seaweed--driftwood--stones and imagination

She cups the memory like a flame flicker trying to make it grow bigger so she can find protection in the dream

If the wish was only strong enough to transport her to that spot in time it would be the perfect way to die

Just to fade back into the warmth of her daughters laughter to take the cloche of their innocence and joy-- and cover the black bleeding hole in her heart

Days run into months into years into decades of loss She was right to leave--no fairy tale endings for her

What a fool to have raised them with the hope of love and joy --laughter and kindness

Fool fool fool FOOL

As the black hand of cold reaches into her soul she is slipping away again to days when she never felt love or safety

Did they feel that too? Why had she not pushed for a conversation with them after they had turned out to friends and boys and things that would steal their hearts and souls?

She is wandering again--the chill just before dawn pulls at her torn blanket--her bald head hurts where the rain had washed the skin away

The invisible insects crawl around her eyelashes causing burning tears to come like the poison of her loneliness pouring through a sieve

She gathers her blanket pulls on shoes that never fit but keep the chiggers away

Begins the day with the black hole growing larger She searches for the box that holds all her possessions--the stuff left after the thieves in the dark and finds it wet and swollen with few memories left

The books had lost their covers long ago there were chapter chunks missing and many were a page or two rolled tightly like the horoscopes you used to buy in coin machines

The gypsy told her many years before her life would end in black
No duh when you close your eyes its black so every night steals another memory

There was a beach somewhere

The wandering begins again--walk until you can walk no more--peel away the blackened shrunken bark sometimes there were enough creepy crawlies around for a meal

Keep moving--today is going to be a good day--a fine day--a walk on the beach with the breathing of the sea calming the soul day-

The line of the horizon flat like her heart--today would be a good day she wouldn't have to live in the here and now

She could escape and draw her memories around her shrinking heart to save their beauty

Her feet hurt they always did--she is tired of the view--she sits and dreams of the top of the Grand Canyon at dawn--

A clean dawn crisp with cold air--brilliant colors--reds creams vermilion streaking across the vast emptiness--clear air - warm sun- she sits looks to the sky and wanders in the memory and wishes to fly

Never heard the police when they told her to keep moving--everyone wanted her to keep moving--she was their conscience-she was their shame- she was wishing more than they would ever know to keep moving

Moving right out of this place that her mind had dumped her--watching what the world held and that always held just out of her reach--she tried the world for many years--to fit in with the world before her heart broke

Married-raised a husband- three children--stayed-- wanting nothing more than to feel safe even bloomed when cared for--went to college and began to teach

But that was not meant to be for the wicked witch stole her dreams and laughs forever in her brain--every bit of laughter--digging the hole in her heart deeper--making her work harder until she broke

Broken--tired--and still trying to hold on- she screams at the guy kicking her--oh God that will get her beaten

No sorry look I am moving on-- no it's okay I'm leaving

The blackness and cold filled her belly-fingers and toes with a chill that even the streak sky sun could not help

Is this how it felt when your heart is breaking?

Is this how hate feels?

What day is this---what day is this?

The screaming croaking sirens fill her ears--oh God-- they were after her again- run-hide- why does this body not move?

The thoughts falling in and out of her brain--the colors of the canyon are crowding her ears-she is almost there--please let her free--please let her fly with eagles

No shit-- there are no eagles left in the canyon only loud black crows who follow you begging for food--ah-there she is a black crow surely now she can fly away from being beaten again

Move your feet MOVE YOUR FEET Raise your wings
No don't piss on yourself that will only slow you down and you will be CAUGHT

Silent blackness falls down suffocating the last look at the shore--God it stinks in here-choking oozing mess of a human lying in the corner-why have you brought me here--they can't find a memory of me in and out of the light

Would she ever be allowed peace and freedom from the crawling terrors of life?

Why can't she go to the top of the peak and free fall to heaven?

Why did they always try to keep her here?

Didn't they know she was done and useless?

Didn't they know that even God didn't want her?

Set her free.

NO no no not the needles again.

She can tell you what's wrong if you would listen

But she can't scream it all loud enough for you to hear

She can't escape the care given when she is in madness spirals that steal every good thought she had left in her body

They can't get her family back for caring-they can't see what they are doing

No don't steal the memories-- sometimes they were wonderful-warm and keep her together for another day of hope

Hunger--light--fresh clean smell--soft lotion for parched skin--gentle touch--softly cleaning hot tears of fear from her eyes

Damn back here again

Please please let me go--no no I cannot speak I will break the godmother's spell-nope- no thoughts that you can have and hold or steal

I have to keep some memories for the cold and dark times--the open hole pit times--the soulless dark times that collapse the spirit

Why can't I just surrender to them--just float above the room and watch the Jane doe tag on the corpse?

Why the hell am I still here for I don't want to be somebody's conscience or God's comic relief?

I don't want to be my family's guilt

I don't want to be held to this rolling piece of shit any more

I want to fly free--to spirit rise thru the darkness

I want to be Jonathan Livingston Seagull on the white sand shore practicing night flying

I want to be Juliet as Romeo takes his last breath

I want to be Marilyn singing to the President

I want to be Gibson shouting FREEDOM

I want to be anyone other than this hard shell of a life squandered

She wanders down the long hall-the green mile--everything bright and clean-shiny clean-a mother's clean; smell of fresh air flowing on a March day as she cleans the windows in the little house

Hangs still wet curtains-scrubs the floor- washes the spots from the rug and plops down in the chair.

Tired, worn, but softened by the work-pleased with the feeling and scent of clean air-watching the sunlight pour thru the lacy holes in the dark green curtains

Looking breathing the silence of clean

Peaceful- no demons or hate running through her floating eyes.

Deep breathing soft sounds of spring coming-grass growing-crocus peeping even though knowing the cold is not yet gone

Her fingers relax-a good day- work done-the sound of daughters laughing upstairs playing Barbies; five minutes; six minutes; seven minutes; eight minutes; ticking of the clock- breathing- eyes closed- warmth of their laughter- melting the black hole in her heart
Peace; solemnity of purpose; job well done- sun softly caressing the face; licking the feet; warming the soul

Nine minutes; ten; eleven; twelve; a memory

Please let me stay-there is no pain-no sorrow- no hurt

Please keep me wrapped in that warmth--please keep me in this light until I can soar with angels