Musings From A Musical Mind

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

This Time

Gift Box

Gift Box (Photo credit: Ken’s Oven)

There is a box marked “past”.

I keep it tucked away.

the lid is closed

but sometimes I take it out

unwrap the pretty bow

and look inside at the things

I saved for a rainy day.

things that are precious to me

conversations and pictures

memories and mistakes

those that are no longer a part of my life

it is my glimpse into an altered reality

and another life

that might have been mine

this time

so long ago.

There is a box marked “today”

It contains things tangible

easy to touch

never heavy or painful

things that only bring peace

purpose, commitment, laughter and right now

It is my life

There are those that share in it

friendships and love

a simple place of no regret

the box is kept out in the open for all to see,

rummage through and contribute.

There is no lid – the box always open

I am comfortable here and free to be me

I am grounded

firmly planted in reality

It is where I can stay.

this time

There is a box marked “future”

It is the scary unknown

the one that is still unwritten

things I do today will greatly affect this box

that is hidden from me

It will contain my hopes, thoughts and prayers

and things I do or don’t do today

I don’t want to make mistakes

like the many in my “past” box

full of regrets, love lost and wrong people

that box is full and has to be kept shut

by an act of my will

This future box is empty

has no mistakes or regrets in it

it is the beginning of a clean slate

for a meaningful existence today

a poured out life

spent in service for others

honoring to God

a time to be happy

to be all I was created to be

with no regrets

only love

this time

Lamplight Lane


It is almost dark.

A sweet dusk has descended.

The sky is pinkish, blue and gray.

The walkway lamps are lit.

I feel the cobblestone beneath my feet – hear the uneven surety of my steps.

I smell the blossoms on the many plants in full bloom, the trees are fragrant as they hang there unaware of how beautiful they are.

This is my favorite time of the day.

It is my walk time.  My time to be with you.

This is the time when I reflect, pause and drink it in.

I have a prayer on my lips and thoughts in my mind.

We have walked this path many times before – you and I – and I know we shall walk it again.

It is at these times when I feel the surrounding canvas of your creation come alive and you speaking to me.

I have many questions in my prayers.  It is here that I ask them.

I make firm resolves, I argue, I reason – and all the while I feel you with me.

My resolves are laughable – you know me so well

I reason that you have designed me and understand my many jumbled up emotions.

I argue with why things have to be the way they are.

And finally I am resigned to ask the questions anyway – even though you do not always answer.

In the beauty of this evening I feel your promise of many more just like this one.

And I drink it in – all of it.

I feel your grace in my life – things I do not deserve.

Those things you have allowed into my life, and those you have protected me from

And I am grateful – too full to speak

My footsteps are the only sound I hear as I walk along.

I am not alone.

Oh – the thought of it!

The Creator of this wonderful lamplight lane is walking with me.

The Puppet

The following writing is by Mexican ventriloquist, Johnny Welch.   A friend recently sent this to me in a beautiful power-point presentation.  I loved it so much – I wanted to share his inspirational writing with you today.

God Bless


The Puppet

If for a moment God would forget that I am a rag doll and give me a scrap of life, possibly I would not say everything that I think, but I would definitely think everything that I say.

I would value things not for how much they are worth but rather for what they mean.

I would sleep little, dream more. I know that for each minute that we close our eyes we lose sixty seconds of light.

I would walk when the others loiter; I would awaken when the others sleep.

I would listen when the others speak, and how I would enjoy a good chocolate ice cream.

If God would bestow on me a scrap of life, I would dress simply, I would throw myself flat under the sun, exposing not only my body but also my soul.

My God, if I had a heart, I would write my hatred on ice and wait for the sun to come out. With a dream of Van Gogh I would paint on the stars a poem by Benedetti, and a song by Serrat would be my serenade to the moon.

With my tears I would water the roses, to feel the pain of their thorns and the incarnated kiss of their petals…My God, if I only had a scrap of life…

I wouldn’t let a single day go by without saying to people I love, that I love them.

I would convince each woman or man that they are my favorites and I would live in love with love.

I would prove to the men how mistaken they are in thinking that they no longer fall in love when they grow old–not knowing that they grow old when they stop falling in love. To a child I would give wings, but I would let him learn how to fly by himself. To the old I would teach that death comes not with old age but with forgetting. I have learned so much from you men….

I have learned that everybody wants to live at the top of the mountain without realizing that true happiness lies in the way we climb the slope.

I have learned that when a newborn first squeezes his father’s finger in his tiny fist, he has caught him forever.

I have learned that a man only has the right to look down on another man when it is to help him to stand up. I have learned so many things from you, but in the end most of it will be no use because when they put me inside that suitcase, unfortunately I will be dying.

translated by Matthew Taylor and Rosa Arelis Taylor

I Need To Really See

Forgiveness: The Real F-Bomb


Forgiveness is a nice idea

I like it so much

especially when it means I can point

and deflect blame, ownership… and such

I need to really see

In my mind I see how this should go

I ‘make nice’ – and so do you

we shake hands, admit our wrongs

become friends again – instead of foes

However, my perception is skewed

filled with selfish vision

I hold my hands over my eyes and ears so I cannot take you in

Ah – this is my fatal flaw

becoming much more than just a bad decision

I need to really see

And because the apology never comes

only silence and hiding away

I dream of how it should be

your humble repentant heart

full of remorse

your sweet contrite spirit to display

I am waiting for you to own up

and miss me enough

swallow your pride

write down every repentant thought

or bring it all to me in person

becoming something you’re not

I know now that I need to really see

God’s forgiveness is unique

it gives freely

regardless of whether I ‘own up’

casts no blame

requires nothing from me 

I want to forgive like this

without requiring you to feel the same

own up to your own ‘wrongs’

share the blame

For it is in forgiving you

that I am truly free

and when I don’t require you to feel the same

don’t expect you to forgive me

or love me back

that I learn the real lesson

it is then that I really see





Time Is Spinning ‘Round Again

Spinning top, bought in Prague

Spinning top, bought in Prague (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

July slips away

summer nearing another end

energetic in its endeavor

joyous to break free

time is spinning ’round again

The seasons grow ever nearer

advancing their steps

as they dance closer

bringing emotions

and events to mind

bringing urgency to complacency

a rush and a twist

a wink for their ‘good joke’

time is spinning ’round again

Something in me

is lonely

and longing to reach a place

where time can stand still

but it is just out of reach

brushing past my feeling of regret

it bursts toward tomorrow

out of control

sweet and unchained

with sole purpose

time is spinning ’round again

Like a spinning top

it makes me dizzy

and races to its completion

unaware of the many

or the few

caught up in the frenzy

fearless and determined

time is spinning ’round again


Of June

Of June (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It promises


weather that messes with me

gets inside my head

and tears me down

A hint of newness in April

A beautiful blossom in May

a tease

hearing songs

smelling scents

seeing clothes


light and airy

free and easy

kisses of freedom

sighs of yesterday

reaching and grasping

pushing and straining

fast forward


long-lost fall

winter a distant memory


forever spring

eternal spring

wells up

and deepens

settles in


and saturates

feeds a feeling

permeates my being

calls to me

pretends to be

something it is not

it beckons

casts a spell

beguiles and bewitches

desperately imitates


and struggles

to be summer

forever changing its mind

like a lost child

tossed in the wind

and rain

resisting the warmth

and sunshine

a lost traveler

a tempest on the raging storm

the edge of laughter

and safety

looking for the sun

a reprieve from the scattering

a reason for the chaos

a rest from the shivering

a time to hope

a time to dream

a time to reclaim


This is June

More Of You

Renoir's painting of cabbage roses, Roses in a...

Renoir's painting of cabbage roses, Roses in a vase (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Working through the clutter

of another day

my busy mind

filling empty spaces

of unresolved conflict

put aside for another time

a time of never

Endless wandering

and straining

caught between justification

and resolution

More of me

Less of me

Coming alive in need

Being dead to want

The line that is held

and forgotten

Forced to a reckoning

where reason and intellect

have no place

A place of surrender

where God can speak

and be heard

a quiet whisper

in the dark

I am all questions

He is all-knowing

He understands

He gets

my need to know

and yet often withholds

Silently challenging me

confident in the love

that holds me

Knowing that even though

I struggle

I will once again

learn to lean

learn to trust

learn to accept

those things

which have proven

not acceptable

not trustworthy

not safe

And I will find another way through

another road to take

another way to forget

things I cannot leave

or stop wondering about

Am I the only one

who struggles with things


and wrestles in the dark

with myself

my feelings

and things I cannot hide?

Will there ever come a time

where I can rest

not question


and not fight

put aside my feelings

and just


As I put aside the clutter

for this one day

and learn to focus on You

I invite you to clean out

the corners of my mind

and throw away

those things not helpful

or useful

and fill every corner

with your presence.

I need more of you.






Bad Day

English: A painting of a teardrop I did.

Image via Wikipedia

Some happy

some sad

some productive

and some bad

I continue

holding the line

walking through change

and slow differences

of time and age

sorting through

black and white images

of time gone by

adding everyday strains

to delicate issues

of non-disclosure

Been here before

sketchy feelings

of not feeling safe

it’s crash and burn time

schedules gone mad

feeling overwhelmed

and my mind in a dark place

Will I ever learn

to accept defeat

live and let live

not push so hard

or expect so much

will I ever

be comfortable

not being able to solve

or fix

or finally put to rest

can I regain trust

where trust has been broken

and feel secure

in a world gone mad

little things that

remind me

and spin my mind

out of control

threaten to steal

and rob

my joy

and trust

the world looks wrong

and everyone in it


and dark

slamming me with words

and hitting

my own dark thoughts

tearing me down

drowning me with doubt

tainting me


The hot tears come

streaming down my face

I am helpless to hold them in

and I am thrown

into a helpless state

where nothing turns out right

and everything is hopeless

there is no one to trust

no one who has me

or protects my back

even though

this is not reality

it is called

a bad day


When was the last time you had a really bad day?  How did you respond?



Once Upon A Time..


Bollman Bridge

Bollman Bridge (Photo credit: Kordite)

Once upon a time



in a land fair



people who were thought they were right,



lived there



Problems were few



life was good



there was a common purpose, respect, understanding



and things were as they should.



In this land there was a drawbridge



connecting this land to the other side



where those lived, outside the protective walls



did not understand those living in the land beyond the bridge



no matter how hard they tried



Those outside the land



were seen as critical and loud



judgmental, self-righteous



cynical and proud



They refused reconciliation



with those in the land



They held off, retreating in silence



stubbornly hanging on to their opinions



casting a critical eye on things they would never understand



Those in the land called to the others on the other side



“come over – we will let down the bridge so we can play”



But when those attempted to cross – they were met with a guard



a toll booth



and a high price to pay



The high price was admitting failure



humbling of one’s self



and revisiting old wounds



things that they would rather



leave in the dark



in a corner of their heart – high on a shelf



With the price set so high



it was not worth the journey across



so those outside of the land would never come



and it was seen by those in the land



as their “great loss”



Whose loss was it?



In a land where “rightness” and “one opinion”  seemed to overflow



where was the love?



Why was there a guard at the bridge



and a price of ‘one’s self’ at the toll?



Did those in the land really want to reconcile?



Did those outside really want to come over?



Even if doing so meant admitting possible error on their side?



Was there a place where all could live together?



Was there really a place between?



With love, trust, common understanding and mutual respect?



A place where all needs are met – all opinions validated and seen?






Once upon a time



is a real place



it’s the very heart of you and me



the differences which keep us apart

are not so different from

those that could bring us together to really see.

We place a price on those who might be ready

to take a journey across our personal drawbridge

We say “I forgive” – but our actions say

something else

they say – “change first – admit you’re wrong and then we’ll see”

Dear Lord – help our  “once upon a time” personal land

to be free of this high price

from those who have wronged us

help us to tear down that toll booth

fire the guards

live where the bridge is constantly down

and where people can quietly

walk across

with no expectations

no regrets

only a common purpose of true reconciliation

with no questions

and no agenda

just love.













This New Year

A powerful light shines in the dark.

Image via Wikipedia

Another new year

firmly closing last year

as I step into new possibilities

endless discipline

of mind and heart

practicing pure thoughts

never slipping back

to places where my sinful nature roams

It is a balancing of will and choice

knowing those decisions will affect me

and the bad ones

hold me back

and have me living

in fear and regret

The new year

rings out

and calls me forward

with new dreams and visions

challenging me with endless possibilities

and unfulfilled purpose

striving to find something

and somewhere

I have never been before

This new year comes

and beckons me

whispering hope and reprieve

from sadness of the past

It gestures to me

and makes a silent promise

“maybe this year”, I say

I will find that new purpose

and way to share my gifts

do the thing

created especially for me

This new year

sparks of promise

and hope

as I build on what I’ve learned thus far

let go of the past

with its many mistakes

and stumbles

and strain toward that goal

and that prize

set up especially for me

where I have failed before


just maybe

it will be

this new year

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