Purpose

   Purpose. Everybody has one, whether or not they know it. Some can name a purpose or two that they have decided upon. Some not so much.

Geralt - pixabay.com

   I’m writing this on purpose. Why? Because I want to, because I can, because I might have a point to get across! Maybe my true purpose is hidden from me. Perhaps a Higher Power has a higher purpose to work through me.

   Think about it. If you believe in God or other Higher Power, fate, destiny, something powerful is guiding you. Of course you need to pay attention to find out what is going on. If not, well there you go anyway, perhaps oblivious to what purpose you are here for.

   But that’s okay. You don’t need to know exactly what it is. You’ll still live a life that makes a difference to somebody. As I’ve said in past postings, we are all teachers and students. Someone is learning from us, and we are learning from others.

dark souls 1 - pixabay.com

   So if you choose to make a New Year’s resolution, do it on purpose. Be realistic. Be positive. If you choose to not make resolutions, that’s okay too. Just remember, a day at a time is all we have to make a difference.

One more day of purpose

one more day of hope,

of believing

we are able to cope

with all that comes our way.

Just for today

we have a purpose.

Theresa M

Discounted

Her hands clutched objects colored with the season,

 decorations and ribbons discounted,

as her little girl of five or so
clutched onto her mama’s dress,

 a hand-me-down from long ago.

“Look, mama!” The child would delight

 at all the toys and gifts displayed.

Saddened eyes, weary from no sleep

 would look upon her child with a deep love

that was priceless - never discounted.

Half a smile she bestowed at the voice of her child,

 the unsmiling half at their poverty.

Cold winds and flurries drifted in from the storefront doors

 as people and packages fought their way in and out.

Discounts - sales - hurry don’t be late!

 or nothing will be left for you.

Her hand-me-down dress hung to her knees

 stockingless against the breeze,

Her child wore a coat much warmer than her own.

 Her child was cloaked with warmth all around.

Tons of pigtails with pretty ribbons

 held her dark hair in place.

Her little dark eyes took in the world in awe,

 her tiny hands wanted to grasp everything.

But her mama disciplined her well to know,

 “We can’t pay for just anything.”

In line they stood and waited so long

 as customers bought loads of merchandise.

Her turn at the counter, she laid down the decorations

 green, gold, red, discounted down.

The purchases rang up to the pennies she figured

 and with a half-smile she payed

and picked up her package.

A friend stood by the exit door with a smile.

 she nodded, he nodded - hands extended to shake

Change passed, unnoticed to her child -

 the friend would get a gift for her in secret -

Her mama always knew and never doubted

 that her daughter should never be discounted.

Theresa M

Merry Christmas to all ...

Perspectives - Short Poetry Compilation

Trees                                                                                                    

Listen carefully, 

trees whisper, trees weep.
they shiver in the cold,
they bury memories in the deep.
One must be worthy
to hear the promises
they keep.

                        

 Water 

                    

One drop of dew
one sprinkle of rain
one day feels all anew.
A single flake
On winter's dark night
beware the path you take.
Water is life
among the earth
in all its forms we thrive.

See This

A mountain to climb           

📷 Ronald Plett on pixabay. com

on the road to the nest
a tiny ant sees.
A pebble to toss
on the way down the street
a little boy sees.

A branch to rest on
after flying all day
a weary bird sees.
Electric lines buzz
energy twenty-four
a community sees.

Differently.

                                     Arc of Life                                          

                                                                 

There are beginnings

there are endings

Alpha to Omega - 

overlapping arc

of lives intertwined

and apart.

From here one will start

  towards that which has been

  Meantime, we're all part

  of the in-between.

                         

                       Theresa M                       

                                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                               

The Little Girl That I Was

   What would I say to my 6-year-old self if I got a chance to meet her back in time? Or to my 10-year-old, at 14, or 18? Just thinking of this leaves me feeling bittersweet. So much to warn her about but I wouldn’t want to frighten her. So much to inspire her with, but wouldn’t want for her to have expectations that get deflated.

   How could I tell my 6-year-old self that she is loved, that she does matter? How do I tell her that many people hurt just as she does, but beware of those who will take it out on her, make fun of her or use her? Don’t be scared, child. You will find safety.

   At 6 years old I loved to learn but didn’t like going to school. I would tell me to keep learning, keep going to school. At 10 years old, I would fear those grown-ups whose actions and words didn’t seem to be the same. I would tell me to be very careful - actions reveal their real intent. Avoid those who don’t match up if you can. Or tell someone you do trust about it. You will find truth, child.

   My dear self at 14. Teenage years are probably the worst. Keep going to school no matter what, keep learning. I know you’re very shy, that’s okay, you don’t have to have a lot of friends; try to have one or two that you learn to trust. Yes, sometimes it is easier just to drift away with music and fantasy - to dream of a safer place out in the country, away from the chaos.

   Remember at 12 years old when you had that first experience of feeling total powerlessness in what happens in life? Frightening yes, but that is life with a lot of things. Trust in God to be the power for you. People will come and go. God will stay with you. You only need to stay with Him. No, He is not punishing you. Some people just want to make you feel bad. You are not alone, my child.

   So much loss, pain, suffering, sadness yet you’ve reached 18 years old. Where to now? Yes, decisions are difficult when you don’t believe in yourself.  Perhaps you will fall a few times, but you can rise again and try again. There are many paths - all of them will teach you lessons. And within all the lessons you can be a teacher or a student. You will always have worth regardless, whether or not you believe that. You will find faith.

   I could never tell my younger self there would be times of wanting to end life, or that at times emotional pain would seem much too hard to bear. If I do that we might never live, might never have experienced the joys along the way, the moments of delight.

   Or find the love for God’s earth and creatures. We might never have known the truth, we belong to God. We learn to trust in Him and depend on His strength, to trust in His direction, and to hope for everlasting peace when it is time to leave earth, where “I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm.” (Psalm 55:8)

   Hey little girl, I love you. Hang in there; all will be well in time. Trust in the Lord and the direction He takes us in life.           Theresa M

(This is dedicated to all the children who are separated from their parents, alone, lonely, poor, and in need. Remember them in your prayers.)

  Little Girl

The little girl that I am

wore hair of blonde curls

and summer raindrops

with ornery smiles

hiding from fears and hurts

tearing away in her heart.

From the start of life

and onward then

this little girl searches

for someone

in the world to hold her close

and say words that show

belonging is real.

So that everything I

feel and ever did

would be worth something -

would not be in vain

for all the pain

from those who left me 

not chosen, not wanted,

only needed and used.

My little girl inside me

sits quietly bruised

no more of these heartaches

can she bear

no more of the sorrows of life

with no one to share.

The little girl that I am

grew up in pain

abused and abandoned

life left in random

as I choose no more

this way to feel -

I let go - to go away,

to heal.

Theresa M