Journey into Love: Laughter

Love comes in with laughter bright.

Companions sing in whimsy’s light.

Walking through this bubbling brook

that’s love’s caress in easy peace,

while slowing floating as she wades.

Lives entwined, I breathe and move

with comfort born from a tickley kiss.

This makes me chuckle once again,

my face just shines with smile’s light.

I know I’m full, replete and still,

because I’ve felt love’s cheery bliss.

Laughter’s music’s become my song!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Memories dancing

Doing nothing, fingers idle,

things that flash into my mind;

images fleeting, memories dancing,

without order, without form.

There’s dis-comfort with dis-order,

helter-skelter seems bizarre!

What can fill this crazy chaos,

that disturbs me without cause?

 

Choices clamour for distraction.

What can silence raging storms?

Numbness found can be relieving,

yet it’s only found within storm’s eye!

So I move where’er the storm leads,

to avoid being tossed and turned.

Now I’m bound as if a prisoner,

living in distractions lie.

 

Taking time while doing nothing,

is a contest for the brave.

As I face my storms of turmoil,

I too soon face heart’s sore cry.

When with patience, I stop and listen,

pain’s procession opens gentle grace.

Holding hands with comfort’s presence

I connect with my own face!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Solace

Questions rising, turmoil surging,

voices often can destroy.

People speak with careless freedom-

wrecking balls have no dismay.

When within the shattered caverns,

gentle souls lift up their heads,

they find solace left in panic,

while their hearts sobbed out it’s pain.

 

Faithful presence – warm, enduring,

is the hallmark of a friend.

When the packs come round to slay me,

that is when a fury rises

in those hearts who won’t betray.

When I’m close knit with my heroes,

they step in as solace leaves

and become my light of day.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Expectations

Raised expectations surge with delight.

it feels like it’ll happen, maybe-just might!

The visions they swirl and dance in the wind,

the possible’s endless, and wonder’s in flight.

The hormones are cranked up, the crackle is felt,

and time seems suspended and waiting’s a fight.

All this and more flows out from just words,

that simply portended  that dreams can see light!

 

Failed expectations can hurt just like hell.

The future collapses as pain’s torment swells.

The heart feels despairing, sinking deep in the sea,

while purpose is listless and eyes cannot see.

My stomach does threaten to  split me in two,

and dread seems to squash whatever feels new.

Life’s gripped in iron when future looms dark,

and hope just lies stillborn in grief’s hateful night.

 

Living, believing is never a waste.

It frames my good fortune when in valley’s grave.

My present is always a gift of great hope,

when breathing is granted and friendships are close.

I hold to the precious, that lives in my hand,

and reach for the promise that vision demands.

While ever uncertain, I still see a strand,

of grace that’s connected to that which is grand.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Breathe with me

Courage – so needed when I need encouragement.

Hope – that lies so quiet on the floor.

Death it seems more bright than light,

and yet the fear it burns a hole.

 

Why, do questions seem to choke?

How could silence reign amidst such vicious scores?

When will all these haunting sighs,

be choked so I no longer cry?

 

Life it winks so feebly.

Yet still my soul is called to mend.

The grace I need is some great heart,

to breathe with me

and ground me firm,

within the gift of who I am

and believe so I can be.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Two brothers

Two brothers playing, no toys in hand.

They create a world with simple élan!

They race with such fury, they roar with great force,

as the villains are vanquished,and they triumph and stand.

They haul their small boat, made of a bottle of soap,

as it crashes through waves of the grass and the sand.

They play all alone, cause their mother works hard.

So, when there’s a fall they sit with no comfort at all.

They’ve learned to be strong,  they’ve learned to be tough,

yet they play freely in a world that so rough.

 

There are great cultures, where falls are shut out,

yet, equally insisting that darkness should shout.

The walls are erected, and policemen will stand

at doors to guard and make sure things are grand.

Yet still in these bastions there lurks darker threats,

that rise from the hearts of young ones who’re bent.

Their hearts weep profusely while smiles shine brightly,

and anger burns deeply, over slights that were sent.

They’ve learned deep resentment, they’re lonely, forlorn;

their play is now virtual  though their real heart is torn.

 

Two brothers playing, their future in hand.

Who will break walls down and give them a hand.

Two cultures crying in so different ways,

yet steadily teaching young men they’re not grand.

There’s majesty’s potential when princes arise,

who live in the present yet leave legacy’s surprise.

What’s needed are great hearts that humbly breathe life,

and leave a sweet legacy that turns strife into life.

The world is awash in the hearts that could be,

if only boys learned, that life given, makes free!

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Bushwhacking

Bushwhacking – A definition( http://www.freedictionary) – “To force one’s way through a forested or overgrown area where no path exists:” “Often on the verge of starvation, they bushwhacked through muskeg, forded ice-cold streams and rivers … determined to conquer a daunting land deemed impassable”“(Brenda Koller)

There is always a well travelled trail – a highway.

It goes somewhere “important”, popular or theoretically crucial.

If I see myself only through other’s eyes, I am driven to “assume” that areas with no trails are only waste places or impossibly inaccessible. We label them ”Here there be monsters” on the map of life!

Life is after all “only about” what our “culture” and our friends have chosen to praise and admire.

Or – is it?

If life is a process, and if my journey has anything at all to do with my own uniqueness, then, my path must at times appear like buswhacking!

This implies solitude, struggle, many unknowns and periods of being lost!

These aspects of life are not glamourized by many. In fact, they can be downright scary!

Yet, the vast majority of my life’s encounters with exceptional beauty, radical moments of self discovery and incredulous joy, have been off the beaten path.

The courage to step off the “chosen” path will always open the door to wonder, curiosity and discovery, if, I am not running in panicked flight ( Fear is a monster!).

When I choose this deviation from the comfortable, I meet my own uniqueness because my Creator has been waiting to meet me there!

Drink deep of the wine of being exceptional – step off the highway!

Author – Bill Tidsbury