Always

Always

    By

Lisa A.Williams

There have been so many

 I could build

a castle of goodbyes

on this shore.

Always facing the wind

who scatters those sands

of a lifetime, some gladly

released, many held tightly

still she prevails in

the breath of living to

take what was given.

Those moments, seared

in memory of the family

who shared the love of

music and the lightness

of being, shared laughter

precious commodity in an

aging world of anger.

Friends, close to the spirit

drift away to far off places

to begin anew, always their leaving

takes a part of us with them.

Children grow

become what we were

and more, always there is a

grieving of their departure.

The familiar face in the mirror

becomes a stranger we don’t

know, too busy saying goodbye

to the one we remember, watching

her transform over and over again,

an ever changing self who finds and

then is lost with each farewell.

A Tree

A Tree

By

Lisa A.Williams

A tree

grows there

in that dry place

with nothing but skies

to water,

earth to nurture.

A tree grows there budding,

roots reaching for more

to steady its skyward gaze.

 A tree sleeps there

 in the dead winter barrenness

 rooted with questions

 only rebirth can answer.

It waits with eons of patience, knowing

only time can fill the void and strengthen.

Beneath its shade, I find solace.

in its silence, I hear my voice.

Where a tree grows, I rest

and reach for all I do not know.

The Ladies

 The Ladies

By

Lisa A.Williams

They tell

of lifetimes spent

in small towns

when the world

was new to them

and grief and loss

were in their infancy,

as they raised families

still keeping their voices

in low whispers

.

Time moved on,

some were separated

from parents while still

in desperate need

of their guidance.

 Husbands lost

to dying.

Their voices grew louder,

stories I was eager to hear,

in a small shop

where others “junk”

became someone elses treasure.

In their company, me

at 50, still in their eyes,

a “young” woman,

listened-

to how cancer reared

its ugly head,

time and time again

sometimes beaten,

sometimes the victor.

How a man forgot

his wife’s name

and whether he was eating

cherries or grapes

as she wiped his mouth,

like he was her child.

Stories of loneliness,

 in an

empty house,

making winters 

colder than memory.

Most of all,

witnessing

the treasure of aging

with strength

and beauty

how nothing would

cause the laughter

To cease.

Joy was always

on the cusp,

 the ladies-

wise enough to swoop her up

at every chance.

In Your Eyes

In Your Eyes

By

Lisa A.Williams

I saw-

in the bluest eyes

my reflection

held in acceptance.

I saw a kindred spirit

who knew all too well

the frazzled threads of

all I wish to be, all I ever was

and the darkness I fought

to free myself from.

In your eyes, I saw

A bond of eternal, maternal

hunger to feed the child within

who never knew there was a place

such as this, where all sins are wiped away

ashes scattered at the mercy of a timeless wind

and I could be as I am, imperfect, wandering

often lost .

In your eyes, I saw eternity.

Another Father's Day

Another Father’s Day

By

Lisa A.Williams

Twenty-nine years

since we said goodbye

on that hot July

night when lightening

struck the sober sky

still holding the Father’s Day Card

last one, with the picture of  a dad

swooping up his little girl,

the inscription: “Remember when

you soothed all my little girl fears

with just a shoulder to lean on ….”

Moving On

Moving On

By

Lisa A.Williams

It is said-

We must move on,

leave the ache

in its hollow place

darkened by memory,

worn away by years.

 We fed it with sorrow,

 re-sensitizing the fear born

 remembrances which made

 us who we are, yet held us prisoner

 in that familiar place as we fruitlessly

 reached for something we still hungered for.

 Only by starving the past

 Can we fill ourselves with

 the future which will nourish

 all those laid down dreams-

Awakened by the vacancy

moving on has opened our hearts to.

Mermaid

Mermaid’s Song

By

Lisa A.Williams

Echoes-

from sea to stone

ascend to kiss the sky,

ancient muse

earth cannot recall.

 Fins

of forever

sweep the tide

in a dance

 only the free remember.

 Her glistening rises

with the waves

as she breathes

 both sea and sky.

How the jealous land

                                                                       aches for her.

I Remember

I Remember

By

Lisa A.Williams

I remember-

riding in the car,

wind

letting in summer,

Dad singing

old songs he remembered

as he grew up

in the place we were heading-

Home

where heartache

etched its scars

but love healed over.

I remember-

My grandmother

 in her bright flowered duster

running to greet us

 tears

 when we arrived,

tears

when we left.

I remember-

my cousin Debbie,

the smell of the river

and buying ice cold cokes

from the soda machine

on the anchored tugboat.

I remember-

Washing down

the salt tablets we “sailors”

had to have as the August sun

beat down, darkening our

Celtic skin.

I remember-

the warm nights

of playing tag and

listening to stories

our forefathers recited

in the oil scented

garage, their only escape

 from the sweltering fields.

I remember-

Waddington,

family who embraced me,

stranger that I was.

I saw in their eyes

my beginnings,

I saw in their eyes

love.

The Art of Leaving

The Art of Leaving

By

Lisa A. Williams

Mom-

Tangled soul of many voices

standing in front of the poor man’s grocery

waiting for a rescue which never came.

Dad and his promises

better tomorrows

free from her illness

destination unknown.

Child in the middle

playing with their promises

weighing each,

finding both were as thin as air.

Untitled

Untitled

By

Lisa A.Williams

The wise-

don’t build on sand.

but spirit does.

 At the mercy of whispers,

the wind utters

 her contempt

for stability-

she is a freedom

lover, enraptured by

the pull of lunar

and warm breezes.

Sister sun-

shines on the shadows

 of stone-

where secrets try to hide.