Invisible To Him

Though I walk in his footsteps,

I’m invisible to him.

Though I follow close behind,

I’m invisible to him.

His eyes stay fixed on the future

never turning back to what he passed,

never detecting my prints in the sand.

I go unnoticed to him, completely invisible.

Though I know him inside and out,

to him I’m invisible.

Though I’ve got him memorized,

to him I’m invisible.

He’ll never know what I've done to stay by him,

never know how I've watched him,

watched him grow and shape his life,

never know because I’m invisible to him.

He’ll never know me like I know him.

He’ll never see me for who I am,

only for what I was in the past.

My footprints mean nothing to him.

My path in life is meaningless.

He’ll never see me, never know what I’ve done,

never understand why I’ve followed him,

never know that I wanted to be the footprints beside his.

My footsteps have changed course,

not by much but by enough.

Enough to make my own life,

enough to be more than just invisible!

November 18, 2009

Questions

Here is a really thoughtful poem. I hope this sparks your own questions about life. 

When does a falsehood become                                                                                                                  

A lie?

Is it after your words hurt someone

When does alcohol become

Intoxicating?

Is it after you do something stupid

When does a crush become

A lover?

Is it after you realize you can’t breathe without them

When does a story become

A novel?

Is it after the protagonist questions their motives

When does a prodigy become

A genius?

Is it after they accomplish the impossible

When does a sapling become

A tree?

Is it after it survives a harsh winter

When does a death become

A tragedy?

Is it after you are affected

When does a child become

An adult?

Is it after they find themselves

When does a habit become

An addiction?

Is it after you understand it is hurting you

When does someone accomplish their

Destiny?

Is it after they realize they know nothing at all

When does this life truly

End?

Is it after you give up

 October 15, 2010

Your Death

For those who have lost someone dear. Grandma I've been missing you a lot lately. 

Your Death

Your death was a flash of lightning

In my night sky

Others saw it, felt for me,

Then moved on and saw the sun rise

But for me the image of

Heaven touching earth

Is all I see when I close my eyes

The storm is still raging in my dreams

My days are dark with rain because

Your death was a flash of lightning

Masterpiece

This poem takes some imagination to read, but I love it I hope you do too!

Masterpiece

I pull my canvas across the frame

Carefully take my paints out of the box

Arrange my brushes, pull the shades

Light filters across the blank sheet

I bring my stool over positioned just so

I settle upon my perch

And wait

Light and shadows change

Time erodes

And still I wait

The paint patiently anticipates the

Opportune moment when I find that

Perfect second of suspended time

To splatter onto my blank canvas

I wait

There! at the distant horizon of my mind’s eye

I see the moment

The perfectly formed, terrible horrendous moment

The moment I realized; this was the dawn

The cold, foggy, wet, miserable dawn

Of a day I never wanted to see

And still it came

The brushstrokes are slower now

A tear falls

His hand reaches off the canvas trying

To wipe the liquid pain aside

The light has faded

The paint is back in the box

The brushes cleaned

The canvas drying

I walk towards the door

Glance once more

At the piece of my past, my heart, my soul

Out on display for all to see

I turn the lights out on

My masterpiece

The Moment of Goodbye.

April 27, 2011

He Didn't Have to Be

This is one of my favorite poems, you might have to read it a few times to understand it's full meaning but I think that's what makes a great poem. 

He Didn’t Have to Be

He didn’t have to be

There in that stable

He didn’t have to run

To Egypt to save his life

He didn’t have to be

A humble carpenter

He didn’t have to watch

His family be persecuted

He didn’t have to be

Worthy of his calling

He didn’t have to live

That life

He chose to accept

His mission

He chose to believe

Mary and the angel

He chose to father

The Saviour

He didn’t have to be

There in that stable

August 7, 2011