Hope’s eyes

The consternation of a father,

as a precious child cries,

its power evokes the heavens,

as he seeks to turn the tide,

and in the dungeons of his heart,

a prisoner groans,

remembering days now past,

when pain became his home.

 

The fears that ply a mother’s soul,

as hungry toddlers ask her “why”.

She has no job that brings the dough,

and so hates her life also.

The future looms with horror’s mist,

which thickens slow and grey,

then devours greedily

as silence weeps her tears.

 

And while I seek, so weak and small,

to change this moment’s need.

I come with little in my hand ,

but eyes that see a God that breathes.

Then in this nexus peace is born,

as hope’s eyes sparkle with surprise

while arms of grace so wise

heal hearts with bread that’s real.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

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Solitude’s intent

Solitude

bares the soul,

and opens wide the silence

that quiets raucous noise.

 

Quiet,

unleashes

clamouring voices within

that stir up hidden fears.

 

Voices

multiply

as I lose sight of living

and only seek to please.

 

Vision

comes as  breath.

Electric pulse that frees my heart

to be the hidden me.

 

Freedom!

Scandalous

vitality of being

that only I can see.

 

Unique,

yet in love,

with my perfect counterpart.

Together we create.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Canadian waiting room

People peer and people hide, people scurry around inside.

Busy lives occupied, and then collide! – caught in a waiting room.

Different journeys all coincide, they pull us together, side by side.

Some are sick and others tired; one is supporting while another strides.

All together in one room, waiting their turn to leave this doom.

 

Eyes are glued to cell displays, some are earnest with video games,

All can feel each other’s vibes, crowded around yet locked outside.

Brief encounters cause a smile, especially when caused by an innocent tike.

In spite of proximity, silence reigns, then there’s a giggle that doesn’t end.

Transparency’s blessing brings relief, as one small child distracts his friend.

 

Busy lives wrenched by chaotic waves, yet walls erected keep things “safe”.

People drift in with worries and fears, shrivel within because no one dares.

Kept apart by fearful restraint, tumbled lives twirl with no incident.

Alone and silent, each in turn, take harried hearts in for pills that burn.

Each of us miss the  treasure beside us, because we insist on the silence that hides us.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Tumbling words

Shoe shiner comes – desperate in heart,

Poverty’s grip is fierce. Vice’s promise lies so sterile.

Life drags amidst the barrenness -bruised and tattered.

Hope is lost, agony’s torture brings piercing cries.

Why is life so unfair?

 

Heart’s cry rises to form spoken word,

Need is real, eyes always searching.

Family’s lost -who’ll lend a hand to hope?

Words pour on, ears no longer hear!

Stories are old – well rehearsed – yet pain still grips.

True answers now seem rhetoric.

Escape! Can someone make it go away?

So hard to believe change is possible.

I sit in sorrow and share my story – again.

 

Tragedy’s blindness grips with steel

when bitterness becomes my destiny’s friend.

Words run on, eager fingers seek for more.

Yet hearts that listen heal. Quietness steps in by surprise!

In the silence something speaks.

Hope finds voice – a faint song whispers – mysteriously.

Can wisdom ever find a home

when trumpets blare panic’s song so fierce?

 

Still, quiet presence sits with faith softened eyes.

Hope is always heart’s most needed balm.

Presence is more faithful than words.

Sitting still, eyes probe beneath the words.

Gentleness speaks future’s grace! Believing.

Possibility awaits the day when choice once more awakes.

In a moment, frozen dams break wide.

Shifts occur when life seeps in.

Mercy’s caress invites the intimacy of our common bond.

 

Change dances quietly

as awakened grace shifts the tattered frame.

Dead and shattered fragments come together to dream once more.

Life is more than history’s repeated words.

Life is in the offering-

tatters lifted to a shining heart who makes all things new.

Author – Bill Tidsbury

Hearing differently

I used to sleep when I was awake! I often missed the sound of quiet desperation in the hearts around my busy life. I used to think that answers always spoke perfection and silenced all dispute! Then I woke up and realized I needed to hear life sing!

I went to sleep last night,listening to the dogs bark. It was intriguing as I counted over 20 distinct voices in the course of drifting into dreams! Funny, how a person walking down a street creates a symphony!

I woke up last night, feeling strange! All the dogs were silent! Mind you, it was after 2 AM! Even my friends the crickets and the frogs were silent. So, I enjoyed silence with still night breezes flowing over my head as I drifted back to sleep!

I woke up this morning as the light was dawning. The call to wakefulness came from roosters crowing announcing the demise of night. Of course the splash of songbirds that awaken the day are the perfect celebration to being alive in  a new day!

I remember my last night in Canada on Thursday. The walls were cold and chilly, the windows closed  yet with the sighing sound of a cold wind outside. Inside, if I stepped near, I could hear the sweet sound of children dreaming!

I live between two worlds, and two realities. One is cold and wealthy, the other is warm and quite distressed. The worlds collide in my head as I shift from quiet- to constant vocalization, from ample provision – to desperate poverty. Yet in both worlds, life sings beautifully. I just need to hear differently!

Author – Bill Tidsbury