A Mother’s Pain



(This is raw ~ I guess it just has to be.)


One does not throw themselves headlong knowing into the birth of a soulful despair.
Rather it comes in one hurling chunk of the rock of reality leaving the icey cold burned into the breath of innocence and then sits there waiting silently to gasp awake at any moment unannounced forever in the rest of that human life of the soul. Intertwined it is the strange thread that shimmers in the exposure to any bright light whether initiated by unexpecting query or the filtered flicker of sunlight through trees. I would not change any one of those exposures for they were necessary in the scheme of the greater universal love.

Weep. One cannot know a Mother’s pain from the outside in as the only heart listened to by the soul synced with the heart that once lies against the Mother’s heartbeat wells up from within to without then dissipates too soon from too small the human life.

My tears woke me up before the sun or the noise of humans ~ your heart captured in the soul could be heard and in my human experience my weeping simply held onto the pain like a blanket well worn familiar yet torn.

I am ok with the pain as a part of a much greater whole. The years between not wanting it here and it staying with no permission allows me to realize it is not my choice to wring out the last drop of care. It goes beyond human experience and it leaves me with a far deeper knowing that there is more far greater than just this bug walking this blue-green planet. I cannot explain it. Nor do I feel a need to be understood. BUT this Mother’s pain requires from time to time expression which is not easy yet inadequately if the ego tries it is nothing but mere words; when the heart tries it is at times a song of tribute and at others the song of a siren lost at sea.

I make no apologies to the eyes of others for the pain that my soul knows from the heartbeat synced with mine can not be ripped away when a life is gone. My hope is that perhaps the thought comes that pain simply juxtaposes against joy making both greater and not muted to unknown.

Thank you comes to my mind and suddenly a humble attitude of gratitude unlocks even more love allowing empathy and compassion to flow even more.

My tears flow and my fingers stop touching the keys.







the illusions built over years
finally fell from the worn window frame
pane by pane they hit the ground
shattering into slivers, jagged sharps
the fragilility of the core
dare not pick them up
to risk cutting and bleeding out

exposed to the wind and rain and sun
there became a strength
as wings began to unfold
first the moistness risked the filmy screen
see through as dried
unpierceable by human scorn
lightness of the innocence brand new
with ancient eyes embedded
the silence became nothing to you

yet she knew that she knew
she loved you no matter where you are
she loves you into the fullness of light
beyond the simple heat mirages
she was, you must know,
she is, you must feel


If I should die before I wake …


~ everything is exactly as it is supposed to be ~

The moment I realized that the entire process called life which was inextricably tied to death with birth not being a beginning but rather a marker of so little in the greatness of much greater was the next level of freedom my soul dreamed of on its way to unified unconditional love.    Now why be bothered by so much fragile snags that are washed down river or cast up onto disappearing banks never to be seen again other than in the dregs of egos clinging to disrespectful delusions erroneously called hope. 

Live out on the edge of the process while floating above the under current of frothy foam.  Yet live with childlike wonder expecting the unexpected brilliance of abundance of love.  

            I am grateful for it all.                  Breathe stars.    Exhale ancient cosmic dust.  Creation is but energy changing born in the gentle shelter of love’s recessed pool.

                                      We start not all over again but rather after each rest moving not forward or back but upward to the next star.   Love like the love that loves without restraints, without comparisons, with only increased love.        

Gratitude unlocks the heart releasing more mysteries to the connection of the universe that is Universal Love.    

she waits (revisited)



the tears welled up in her blue eyes


and as she tried to choke them back down in her throat


one salty one dribbled slowly down her weathered cheek




why so sad whispered the wind


yet the wind picked up faster to



move on without hearing an answer





I would like to be able to go to him right now and sit down and quietly ask ~ what now must we believe in when humans have trashed everything you lived for so many years ago?


If I hold onto the way things were I shall be lost among the leaves of old and the new shoots rapid growth as like a small little single grain of sand unknown by the eyes of the hu man.


If I adapt with the changes that are rapidly passing on interstates with no speeed limits then how do I continue the message that is the only truth I have known.



I think I am forced by the odd weather recently to stay inside out away from the severe cold for only this reason ~ to sit with myself and ask the questions and then wait patiently for the answers from ancient lips across million of billions of stars that lands softly upon my shoulder.   I must listen with all of me.  Listen with a serious quietness that holds spell bound and suspended any future and all told untold pasts.



The toughest lessons for me to learn are not behind me and will not be in front of me if I sit right here and listen carefully knowing that time is no longer and space is but in this capsule of this now.



Do not paint me in muddled greys as if I am a troubled soul for that would be erroneously depicted of a free flowing spirit that regards nothing but the now in premium colors of blue and reds that leak into each otjher and become the purples that run endless in no time and no space but for the brush of the artist on canvas who believes they can create.



I felt such turmoil when you disappeared and now that you are here ~ I am breathless as I await ~ wanting to know you more than I knew you in the deep autumns of the late.


If I lift my right index and middle finger to my lips then to kiss and wave them thus across your face will you know that I love you as no other love could for in this timelessness love alone mixes the colors of endless spaces criss crossing many universes to take us so many places.


I heard you across the many hills when you were a child like boy cry out from your heart for me ~ and I waited 6 times the ten that you might find me one moment again.


(Jan 2014)

fragments of memento mori



remember you must die

with the remembering 

comes the living more sensitively


the sip of coffee becomes the last drink

the view of the tree out the window

becomes that last look


in each moment that death is remembered

living becomes that more grand in the simplicity


why do we look for ways to dull our senses when 

we are down about our circumstances

we do it to die rather than live

yet living through, promises the triumph

of knowing we can do it

we can make it through and be more

than the circumstances that seemed 

at a point before to control us


Look for life in the reminders of death

that living might be just that grand 

in the schema of human strifes

there is living to be done

surprises to take in with our breaths




she feels convicted by words on a page

then not wanting to deal within

she stomps on the author to end

denial is her only friend

yet in the acts of desired hurt

she forgets her life is worth 

as much as any human’s

for death is but one last breath

but living is exactly what she might make of it

she is scared of her own shadow

so screams and screeches at others

with grand bravado

as if that makes her taller and stronger

she missed yet another chance to

begin her life and shape it

with an attitude of gratitude

her green eyes dart around 

to find anyone else to criticize

so she does not have to experience

her own life

then take responsibility for living


she has neglected memento mari

yet others see it in her

to then live with their own purpose

more greatly convicted


come forth glory

of the life

living brings!




he sucks down yet another drink

in hopes he can forget what he can not now change

while he is wallowing in self pity

he is justifying by shaming and blaming others

yet if he sobered to recognize the skull

simply reminds that 

he too can take charge of his own life

begin again to shape with his own breath

what he wants in these breathless moments

before tipping off the mountain top

to exhilirate in the moments 

he can now appreciate

knowing that every human is promised death

every human can make life at his best

bring the senses out of the fog

rise up knowing them 

embrace as a part of the whole

and BE which is great.






through blue lenses reflect such wondrous light

tis fine imperfect as wabi sabi 

for in those cracks 

more light

more living

more reminders

than soon enough

life ends

make of it 

what she can

while she can.

Lenses of blue light

reflecting back again.





no, work is what he knows

what defines him most

he missed out on several chances

he may well miss out yet again.

Humbleness is becoming.

When pride is set aside

connections can be made

yet again…..

for there was a willingness

still is

that living can be done

together now and then


see what can happen

if only you let your full self

be what it has hope it could be

in spite of your grabbing

holding your breath

so that living did not have to accept

the imperfections of building connections

one living stone moment at a time


breathe then live

beginnings are available

as long as aire can be taken in


living is not predictable but

aye aye captain

death is.





We set sail tomorrow

with cracks here and there

will we make it in storms

of course as long as life

is reminded of its preciousness

as death is all we can count upon.


Breathe in

Exhale out

Look at the sails fill with wind

Remember to stand at the bow

Smile as the miles of ocean

fold under the ship.


Purpose of living 

is what we each make of it.


© 1998-2016 by KLB