It took me long to find the guts.
To visit you, at last.

There, where I left you.
Guarded by 1000 trees.

I told you.
You might still need to wait.
For our baby boy to join you.

Not knowing yet.
That it would be our little girl.
We might have to let go as well.

We are still fighting for them both.
As we did for you.
The beginning of all.
The reason.

And him.
Too fast gone for even a goodbye.
The pillar that kept us standing.
The soul.

Rewriting Memory

…and how does my family and I deal with trauma?
By making silly jokes of course after the fact
How do I handle a situation and drama?
With some sarcastic humor to remain intact

Along the way I’ve also learned to read the room
It’s been a bit of a challenge with autism
Though sometimes I’ve been off-putting and a weird loon
It’s usually been my coping mechanism

People say Saturdays are made for rest,
For sleeping late and feeling blessed.
For lazy brunch and cozy views,
And doing everything you choose.

But somehow, every week I find
A slightly different use in mind.
Because when Saturday appears,
It activates my “life admin” gears.

First comes the laundry: spin and swirl,
A mountain tall enough to curl.
Then sweeping floors and wiping shelves,
While wondering how dust clones itself.

Rewriting Memories

Never mind the bombs or images of war
Or the blind kid on the bus singing trying to make a living
How did we neglect the hungry and the destitute and the old?
But time does not forget
It just plays in a private theater
Like a matinee waiting for me to come in and watch

A heavy meditation,
a reason to move on!
The source of
higher guidance,
will move us all along.
The path of least resistance,
as a river rising,
with current fast and strong!
We hope for change,
within us to create
a joyous song.
You’ll find a hidden message,
within the mantra’s strain,
Something wondrous
leads us,
to the place we all belong!

"When you look in the mirror
What do you see?"
Well, it doesn’t matter
Because it isn’t really me.

The only way,
To know me well,
Is to take my song
And find its tell.

I don’t want people to know
Who I am and what I think.
That’s why I haven’t written,
For at least a little bit.

Do I even want to start,
Or continue this journey?
I feel it has only begun,
But it's really hard to keep up.