For Giving Love

We are our most vicious critic.

I should've.

I could've.

I would've.

What was I thinking?

Are all laments,

All dirges,

Sung off key

To knock us down

And bring us to our knees.

Are we really that bad?
How can we know,
Really know,

Who we are,

If we never become
Who and what

We are not?

Sometimes there's no other way

Other than to become

Who we are not.

Sometimes we must

Do mean, hurtful shit.
Yes, we lie,
Cheat, and steal
To get what we think,
What we hope,
What we pray
Will bring us joy.

But it is all too often

Short lived,
Temporary.
Self-deceiving ploy.

We can look at our past actions

And past omissions

And say, "That's not who I am.

I am better than that.”
And we are
We are so much

Better than that.
Better than we have allowed
Ourselves to imagine.
Each and every morning
Is new.
Brand new.
We can start anew.
Create a new me.
But first and foremost,

We need to forgive ourselves,
For delving into
Who we are not.
We need to forgive ourselves
For being self-correcting
Ever evolving

Versions of ourselves.

We need to forgive ourselves

For not already
Being the perfect
Finished
Product.
When accept our own self-forgiveness

We honor our humanity.

When we forgive ourselves,

We express love

To the one,

The only one

Who knows our deepest,

Most tightly kept

Secrets.

The purpose of forgiveness

Is for giving

Love.
Love to the one,
The one who needs it most.

Guava Dance

She smiled a multitude
Of red and yellow
Very happy sparkles
Which she offered
In her soft pink petals.
"Come and taste,"
She beckoned.
"My petals are sweet."
They were surprisingly
Delicious.
She didn't tell me
She sweetened them
With love.

She shimmied

As she and the wind

Danced together

In the midday sunlight.

She smiled a multitude

Of red and yellow

Very happy sparkles

Which she offered

In her soft pink petals.

“Come and taste,”

She beckoned.
“My petals are sweet.”

They were surprisingly

Delicious.
She didn’t tell me

She sweetened them

With love.

She smiled a multitude
Of red and yellow
Very happy sparkles
Which she offered
In her soft pink petals.
"Come and taste,"
She beckoned.
"My petals are sweet."
They were surprisingly
Delicious.
She didn't tell me
She sweetened them
With love.

Death as an Advisor

I am grateful for the advice that Death offers us. We don't often think of Death as someone who can offer advice. We usually imagine a faceless hooded creature with skeleton hands, wearing a black robe. The image is frightening. But when someone dies, Death provides us with advice. He does it so quietly that we rarely, if ever, notice that the advice comes from him.

When someone we love dies, Death fills our minds with memories of our loved one. He conjures questions and feelings in our minds and hearts. He reminds us that we do not know when he will come for us. Therefore, we should live life fully. 

Death is a valuable and ever-present advisor. He suggests that you ask yourself the following questions from time to time, especially when we feel stressed:

If I were to die tomorrow, would worrying matter?
If I were to die tomorrow, would whatever I am spending my time on be that important.

Would I regret or be happy with what I am doing right now? 

After I died, would I be remembered for being a blessing?

There are many more questions that he asks if we listen.