trusting my issues
You must not retreat on your journey
just because it ceases to make any sense
feeling lodged in the In-Between.
Yes, there may come a time when a liminal phase
is unappealing or even discouraging, your identity
suddenly a puzzle, and clinging to a former phase
seems to be the only familiar thing to grasp hold of.
Yes, it might even feel bewildering and ambiguous
walking in the middle of two of life’s chapters—
not really old, not very young.
Neither high nor low, rather,
fixed upon a lengthy threshold
before a noble rite of passage.
The impulse to defy your present category,
or resume a past persona,
or take up completely new traits to clarify
your whereabouts will rush in to assist you,
and that can be all right. Be reassured,
it is all part of the human experience,
even this place called the In-Between.
And you can take your time within this space.
You can contemplate the deeper meanings
you missed as an adolescent.
You can try new things and gain
broader emotional range.
You can dive into the mosaic seas of your innerscapes
and surface with sparkling treasure.
You can be playful inside your second youth
and wise within your years.
Most importantly, you can keep living
your bold and valiant life,
even while you’re feeling
confused.
.
Susan Frybort
I’ve long had trust issues with You
We both know the truth of it
Sometimes I don’t like poetry’s punch
sometimes it reveals my own sordid secrets
my prejudicial biases despite
my walk of shame through trash-filled parking lots
hearing howls from next doors graveyard shifting
willows always weeping
fake flowers decomposing in the worm laden grass
My faith starts the morning
feeling a bit wet and soggy
I keep leaking all over my day
trying to lean into the heart of it all
the end of the innocence was over long ago
still and yet,
Jesus always willingly
lays down on the proffered cross
even as the daily crucifixions continue to be demanded
by mobs and masses
the known and unknown
(I keep desperately wanting, expecting, something different from)
carried out in-spite of the pain inflicted –
possibly because of the pain inflicted –
we are violent people
so ready to kill
to proudly prove our way the only right one
even so, love knows no boundaries
chooses to soften on in
courageously receives the wound
lies there calmly bleeding out
dies over and over
in-order to rise again and again
the face of the lover cannot harden or turn away
always faces forward
sees with second sight what is possible
else all will be lost
soft answers wrung from the broken, bleeding hearted
are the only way through the hate wrung words
of the wounded little birds
defending their own lostness
we can never be whole if we refuse
to lay down and hand the nails to the other
…I know it makes no sense…
…It’s never my first choice…
even with practice it’s brutal
to get on that rugged tree
…Hence the trust issues…
All I somehow know is
it’s my only shot at truly living a life of joy
A life that matters even a little bit
A life that carried the weight of eternity
and so I try every day, all day,
just a smudge,
a smidge,
a smattering,
to doubt myself
and trust the Greater,
the One True Love and Lover
the Maker, Creator and Guardian of my pathway and only hope
of getting what I truly want
which has always been
to truly see and love another
to be fully seen and loved by that other in return
❤️
Amy Lloyd
life: acoustic & amplified 