if these hands could talk

If these hands could talk, they wouldn’t stop.
They would tell you stories of the past.
These hands would teach you lessons
of hard work and perseverance. These hands
would just because they could. All the scars,
callasses, bruises, and creases show others
that life is a long, winding road that eventually
ends. I can’t pretend that it has been easy.
But, if it were easy, what would it teach me?
These hands would tell you that it will be
okay. You will move on and see a new day.
If these hands could talk, you would understand
that I have gone to war, but came out alive.
Yes, these hands would tell you that I survived.
In this life, these hands have been wet, burned,
bloodied, hurt, and disregarded. But these hands
would tell you that we are just getting started.
If these hands could talk, they would scream:
“Hold me as I long for touch and acceptance”.
They would talk just to talk just like feet walk.

The Long Way Home

Take the long way home.
Look around as you roam.
Don’t be afraid to believe
that love will set us all free.
Take the time to view places
you once knew. Watch as
grey skies turn blue. Listen
to sounds you once heard.
It takes too long for letters
to become words. Sit. Wait
as time drives us to our fate.
Take the long way home
and take time for yourself.
The long way always helps.

Down the Road

I see flowers growing
down the road. I see
them shooting through
the concrete. Under
my feet isn’t a street;
it’s a dirt road only
the roughest feet know.
I hear birds chirping
down the road. I see
the sun shoot rays
down the road. Now,
I stay in place, as I
take up space. I see
what could possibly be
in front of me. Down
the road is where I’ll go.

These Feet

These feet keep moving on streets
that I seek until I become weak.
These bare feet move on beat
to music that my soul creates.
I make haste for time I don’t waste.
These feet are on the move like shoes
that didn’t choose to be put on.
These feet have been moving along
like they have nothing to lose.
These feet have paid their dues,
been on the news, beat cases,
and have said “no” to shoe laces.
Step by step, these feet remain
the same: adventurous and free.
These feet are still on the move
because there’s no time to lose
when there’s new places to see.

Memory Lane

Today, the car is in cruise control.
I take it slow and go with the flow.
Today, I take a ride down Memory
Lane. I revisit past pain and travel
through time frames: different days.
I unravel. I tear up gravel to navigate
an unknown fate. I carry weight;
I talk to my shadows: old versions
of myself. Sometimes, I ask them
for help – words of advice. Miles
into Memory Lane, I face pain
and embrace joy all the same.
I see old friends of mine the way
they were before I last saw them.
I notice houses I used to live in;
I recognize yards I used to play in.
I begin to see places I have been.
Today, I met with Father Time
and rode down Memory Lane
before any new memories came.