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like a tree planted by the water
my dance is not over just on pause daily my gravity pulls my world from beneath my feet as my heart races to catch a ghost,a shadow of someone I used to be: POTS my new internal roommate My bedroom tilts and twists on its axis, furniture shifts, the familiar becomes a mountain much like the scenery where I live…
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Non existent
“For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.” (Hebrews 8:12)Due to the Cross of Christ, and what, there, took place: sins and iniquities no longer exist, at least for those who trust ChristWe don’t ‘dabble’ in sin, nor should we none ‘tempt’ the Lord as many millions currently doWe…
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observe never absorb
I sit with affective empathy in my office and cradle my coffee while lost in a mosaic of fractured reflections from the storm in the mind of the person across the desk from me watching out the slightly open window as a petulant child tugs on the hem of her mother’s patience, and hearing her every sigh; reminding me of…
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Tempest resistant
In the quiet of the hospital room,you lay , a mosaic of strength,31 needles laid out like a soldier’s salute,each one a story etched in the skin of your arms; yet the way you smile,as if the world is offering you coffee and an eclair Every day a marathon,your vision, a puzzle with missing pieces,yet you navigate the shadows with…
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terminal myoclonus
Christmas is upon me yet again:ten years have passed,the calendars pages turn month by month ,but I remain as a mere “X” with no lateral motion each shadow a story with my permanent companions pain, anger,loss ; these are true friendsI carry the weightof a thousand whispers daily and hundreds of thousands of emotions firing in the synapsis like lightning…
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moratorium Schrödinger
Today is another day where I am Schrödinger’s cat sitting in the box along with uncertainty, which stems from the weight of possibility that I am both alive and dead simultaneously Hourly I am pinned between the what if, and the never was,a silent empty chair across from me the uninvited guest,the taste of stale coffee and multiple invitations to…
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Christmas: more than you see
In the colored lights glowing in December,the the scent of pine in wreaths and trees here I sit sifting through boxes of memories Shining, sparkling ornaments like ghosts,hanging heavy and each a fragment of laughter,a whisper now muffled,lost between carols and the weight of absence I remember the way they used to smile,how their laughter would crinkle like wrapping paper,the…
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The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle 