20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Shiny Things

The newness wore off
like an old penny you put
in your pocket and forgot
about, chasing the next
shiny thing.  You didn’t
mean to lose interest, but
there was so much to see and do,
how could you be expected
to stay in one place, to hold
this moment in your gaze for
any longer than you did?  The time
you had was long enough,
enough to create beautiful
moments, explore cities and
beaches, soak up the excitement
and agony of being alive, until
you weren’t, until the plane
on which you flew was no longer
part of the world the rest of us
call home, and the shiny things no
longer distracted you, for
everything was glimmering and
whole, like you

©SpiritLed 2014


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The Healing Parts

The healing parts are mighty and wild,
careening through the dark mind,
simultaneously passive and angry,
they take you over, consume your soul.

They hunger for affection, else they grow
a life of their own, they thrive on tenderness,
else they join together to conquer
their demons with your pain.

The healing parts want to survive,
as the soul writhing in the night.
They are displaced and dissociated,
and only love returns them home,
validation of their realness,
so they may quench their fires,
no longer reduce you to ashes from the
inside out.

The healing parts are us,
and we, them. We are the parts
we buried deep so long ago, the voice
silenced and the voice raging, the broken, fragile,
lonely, fearful, hurting, hating parts.  We are healing
and we are real.

©SpiritLed 2014


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Heart of the Matter

Just one more day
in the grind, in the bind,
and the voice in your mind
seems to whisper,
“Never let go”

Try as you may,
you can’t rest in one place,
your heart seems to wander
no matter how still your
feet stay

Late, late at night
the process unfolds,
it flows and it grows
through fingers and toes
‘til it reaches the heart
of the matter

The blank page inside you
longs to be written
your heart spills its ink
on the landscape
of life

Through all of your foibles,
your fallacies and farces,
the path in your heart is still
inky and wet

Freshly drawn, slightly smudged,
but still good as new
patiently, quietly nudging you
home

©SpiritLed 2014


Challenge of Return

To return

Can be a challenge,

Jumping back into

A life you

Left for a little while,

You’ve been changed

Had experiences

While your life was plodding

Along at home without you.

You come back to

All the things you missed,

The challenge

Is reintegrating

Into what was once so familiar,

Reminding of the time

This life started,

When you wished and thought about the

Day when it would turn

From new to normal

Now you realize just how much it had.

You’re glad to be back

Among the ones you missed

To get back into the regular routine

Yet a piece

A part of your soul

Remembers all the travels and

Longs for the day when you can fly again.


1 Comment

The Feeling of Home

DSCN1685

Home is the place where I walk in the door, recognize the fragrances, smiles at the messes, savor the peace and feeling of security. When my family is with me, What I miss most about home, is simply home, itself.

Of course, coming home alone is a different story. The joy of beloved faces, sloppy kisses from kids and pets, and the “ahh” of taking off the uncomfortable shoes or clothes you’ve endured while you were away, all of these give home that all important feeling of belonging.

What strikes me most about my feelings for ‘home’ is thinking of the homeless. Thinking of not having that place to rest, not being able to go to the kitchen, open the curtains and fix some chai tea. Not flopping down in your favorite recliner, or taking a hot bath. I honestly believe that the best thing about home is simply HAVING ONE.


sad way

thCAW0NR7V

often in
vulnerable
moments

or any
random
millisecond

in
the
tiniest

stain

scent

syllable

spark

igniting its
p a i n f u l
memory

because

i hold so near
the echo of
e a c h

tear

i

ever

caused

…and regrets
and my searing
m e l a n c h o l y

but
if this
is the

story
of the
world

unfolded

why such
a sad way to
…finally reach

shore

home

find

love

y o u ?
.
.
.


.
We only hurt the ones we love
Why we don’t need a reason
Gonna get all that you deserve
And all that you believe in

Beth Orton

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