Charyl Says

Bringing Me Back to Myself
May 25, 2013, 12:56 am
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Bringing Me Back to Myself
I didn’t realize that
I had killed my heart
in order to survive
the last several years
of my life.
Dead in my chest;
like a stone.
A soul can’t thrive
carrying that weight around, I know.
But some still loved me anyway;
holding out their
emotional life preservers –
ones that I could never quite
seem to grasp.
Flailing in murky water.
Drowning in the sorrow
that filled my lungs;
struggling against
the final gasp.
Then I heard His voice…
His song…
and a gentle rhythm began
once again, inside my chest;
swelling—painful at first.
Breaking my soul wide open.
Beginning the quest.
~Charyl Miller

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Mother’s Day
May 13, 2013, 7:35 pm
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Mother’s Day
I’m sure you sat with me
as I sat alone;
watching the other mothers
with their children and their partners,
fussing about in the pews,
in their Sunday Best.
Tiny babies, hugs,
arms draped around shoulders.
My own children in another state,
with another parent.
My own mother—your daughter—still at home,
busy tending to my disabled father.
Not many others to speak of.
The church had the children
pass out flowers—
long-stemmed pink carnations—
one for each woman.
Mine was handed to me by a little boy
I didn’t know.
I drove out to the cemetery
on the edge of town
and put it on your grave.
For what use is love
when it is only received
and never given?
The one moment that day
I wasn’t strong enough
to keep myself from crying.
Then I went back home,
and waited for a call
that never came.
~Charyl Miller

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The Picture
April 8, 2013, 7:36 pm
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That picture still haunts me.
The one with the blood
and the bone
and the eyes forlorn.
The one with panic
woven subtly into a background
that’s fraught with symbolism.
It was taken just down the road–
a world away.
And the photographer–
famously unknown–
so proud of his award;
but then again, not really.
You know the one–
where the subjects seem
to be drowning,
either from flood or from sorrow,
or both?
There’s an animal…
or is it a child?
No matter–
the pain is the same.
The one that–without words–
so skillfully describes
the human experience;
the downfall of our existence.
That picture…
it still haunts me.
~Charyl Miller

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Walking the Path
April 7, 2013, 11:10 am
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I see you there;
Illuminated by Darkness . . .
Drowning in shadow. . .
Consumed by your dreams.
You think I don’t know?
You think I am oblivious
to your heart—
and all its
maddening schemes?
Give me your hand,
and watch as the
shadows turn to dust. . .
“Those” memories,
they burn away in the
wake of your trust.
Yet I reach out my hand
and pull it back empty.
There is only silence. . .
A wall fashioned by
indifference and stone.
A void that
no other can fill.
Still, after it all. . .
I walk this path alone.
~Charyl Miller

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