Steadfast

You know how He said that you should be steadfast and true? Why is it then, that when you are, you are accused of being emotionless and that your speech is devoid of feeling? 


Why is it that when you choose to be strong in light of what you truly want to achieve, They become inconstant and wavering? 


You say my eyes can be empty, but you do not see that they reflect only yours and that they hold the world for you.  That these eyes see straight through to you and that they hold nothing but love.


When I was young, I was nothing but emotion. Now that I am a man, I choose to commit and to act.


You may say that love is a feeling.  I believe that love is a decision--that it is a choice.


Whatever happens from here on in. I will not waver from that which I have set my heart on nor will I ever forget my own reasons.


You asked me how I knew, I shrugged and said there are times when you just know and somewhere inside you irrevocably decide as you've recognized your other. You said it was the same for you.


Whatever challenges this day brings, I tell you, I remain steadfast and true.  I show you, that I love you.

Coral: This was one of my favorite fairy tales when I was a small boy. In the introduction, the narrator enthuses: 


     "All the soldiers looked exactly alike except one. He looked a little different as he had been cast last of all. The tin was short, so he had only one leg. But there he stood, as steady on one leg as any of the other soldiers on their two. But just you see, he'll be the remarkable one."


Be steadfast and true when you find her. It will see you through.

You've Always Been Right

The day the aliens landed, I took it back and told you, you were right.
After they had taken the best of us and most of the water, you said we would overcome.
After they had herded us and kept us apart, the last thing you said was you'd see me again.
After they had taken my eyes and broken me to take away the memory of you, 
I thought you but a dream or a scrap of a painting seen once as a small child.
The only thing left was the color of your hair and the feel of a whispered hope.
The only thing left was a submission, but not to them.


The day you broke through and held me while I cried, you told me I was right.
You repeated what I said, that my stories were what saw us through.
I doubted you then, as their ships left one by one, I doubted as I could only hear.
But you held me close, until the shaking and the screaming left me. 
You held me fast even after all the stories had left me.
You brought water to my lips even as my fingers could not even trace 
The shape of your face nor feel the fall of your hair.


After the last of them had left, the day I died you, you said I would see you again, 
And I doubted.  Even as the darkness was replaced by an unfolding of light
And the stories started coming back, I doubted, oh how I doubted.
But then the memories of you filled the gaps, your face filled the spaces.
The day I died, I did see you cry. I did see a part of your fear that maybe 
You would not see me after all. I have no mouth to speak nor hands to write,
I don't know if you can hear me, but I want you to know that all is well.


That you've always been right. That even after this world has ended 
And we've taken to the stars, that our stories will see us through. 
And that even now, as you lead the rest to chase them,
I want you to know you've always been right, and that what doubt you have 
Is but proof of a larger story.  That even as the earth dies we will still carry
The stories. That our children's children will have cause to hope.
That what has always set us apart from them is the rightness of our love.

After Silence

I was so proud of you before,
You had learned how to say sorry.
In front of many, you had confronted your fears.
You had overcome your self.

Then things went awry.
Things always come around full circle.

What matters is what we do with with it--when it does come around.
Whether we make the same mistakes,
Or whether we take courage and reach out in humility, or even more simply
Out of acceptance.

The kind of acceptance that doesn't judge or assume,
The kind that accepts for good or bad.

That kind of courage that we see in children.
When they are hurt they cry out.
When they are happy they share their joy.

That kind of humility we find in our elders.
When in doubt they ask.
Or, they hold their silence until ready.

What matters is we live without carrying the weight
Of the mistakes and failures we had to make
To grow into that acceptance, that strength to say sorry.
That letting go of the self.

I was so proud of you before.
And I say to you that things will continue to come around full circle.
What matters, is whose hands, you hold when it does.

06 September 2008