You, me and this (A poem by Cathy Gruman)

you be you and I'll be me
and we'll sort this thing out together
i'll try not to overlook your point of view
while attempting to express my own
i've already made a poor assumption
before we even begin
that we can promote our needs simultaneously
may one of us step back and allow the other to speak first?

creating chaos (a Poem by Cathy Gruman)

creating chaos from a pile of rubble
when it could have remained calm.
If only they knew that what was before them was non-threatening
and only mere clutter.

june gloom (a poem by Cathy Gruman)

june gloom
gets swept away like a broom
july sets in
almost passes before the fireworks begin
yesterday's not coming back
but it's only perfection we all lack
bring it all forward or leave it alone;
or sift out the cluttery mess that has grown.
august and september will be here soon
bringing me october
with the Harvest moon.

Blessings (A poem by Cathy Gruman)

Guidelines are helpful
when we need them,
important points, rules can keep us safe.
Boundaries keep relationships straight.
Books and videos, discussion groups, meet-ups, studies, sermons and classes.
All good, can be necessary and right, and might I say, much needed - at times.
Taking things slow, caution and propriety can be our friends.
But there is a time and a purpose for everything under the sun.
And when God plops that blessing in your lap
without notice or an outline of next steps,
don't hesitate.
Just take it and enjoy the blessing.

Question the Question (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

Ask the question
Question the question
Beg the question
Listen to the answer
Rely on nothing
But the truth inside you
Telling you what is
who is
and who He is to you.
Break down the box
Flat
Stomp out the chatter
The clutter
The strain
Until nothing remains
but the flat smooth surface
Of nothing
Nothing in the way of listening
Hearing
Responding
Being
Living
Feeling
Fresh blood pumping through your veins
You’re ready to fly and begin again.

Water (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

I need a new handbag
My hair needs a trim
In three more weeks I’ll see results from the gym
My morning coffee, a dewy walk
Pretty trees and people with their houses stocked

“I need a drink of water.”

And tonight I’ll watch a movie
scan through the channels
putter around with all my things
straighten the clutter
obsess over what I need

“I’m thirsty, can you help me carry this pot,I have two more miles”

All my plans seem worthy
my education intact
with wiggle room for error
no monkey on my back
The movie’s at three
and all I have to do is this and that
grab a bite to eat
and maybe when I get there I’ll pig out on popcorn
Heaven knows I don’t need it, but it’s the movies...

“My mouth is dry, my feet are sore and I ache.”

I hear a subtle voice
I turn away
It's not a blatant image
but shades of gray
until I turn and look it will remain vague and have nothing to do with me
but if I look straight into his eyes I"ll see.

Oversights tragically ignored.

Time to Abate (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

Much lost
much hate
held on too long
our love is gone.
Letting go was slow -
too slow to free the robin's song,
who flew away
to breath
to see
to soar;
could not take another day's roar.
No forgiveness
suffocation
emasculation
dead air
without the river's flow.
The window's stuck; the last day open was early spring before the unexpected storm,
and when the rains came
our lives were torn.
Dead today
could be alive tomorrow
if we let go.
It's time to abate the force of holding on to the past;
let the robin sing with joy,
and throw the window open to feel the wind again.

The Hope of Your Life (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

The darkness continued and He held on
to the hope and the glory of His Father’s song.
His early years he played
Safe, warm, adored
with his mother near.
And as the chapters turn,
He’s 33 and wearing thorns.
I know who I am
I know whom I love
I know my Father is watching and crying from above;
and for all of you I’m here today;
it is for your lives that I stayed.
The next moment you will not understand
I will seem to disappear from this land.
My body broken,
my face my limbs, my blood - they show defeat,
but my hope and courage are shouting loudly
I am breaking through the clouds
The task is finished,
and into my Father’s hands I go.
Now the hope of your life will surely show.

The Clouds Grew Darker (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

And even He, who claimed to be the Son of the Father of you and me
was frightened on this day.
The end was nearing
still no light
the clouds grew darker
his familiar power seemed not in sight.
And as the crowd shouted
confusion
loss
hate
empathy
apathy
surprise
laughter
cruelty
and dispair;
his body torn beyond repair.
His mother sobbed and screamed with his blood in her hair.
The power He knew
felt far away
but in His pain he chose to stay.
What a fool some would say
what a liar
only a lunatic would last this long -
and in my hour of need
when I forget that He chose to bleed,
is when that moment He held on because He trusted His Father's song
of a new day in three
renews my strength to carry on.

On "Purpose" (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

His will
my will
uphill
downhill
you
me
yours
mine;
where will i be tomorrow?
Everything i am is thine.
If i say no
will you say yes
should i go
should i stay
if i take that step today
will you stop me
for my sake
or yours,
or his or hers or theirs?
Can i depend on you
and you alone;
and should i pick up that stone that was just thrown
or leave it be, silently.
Every now and then i hear your voice;
it's in my heart
and it's my choice.
Some will say to do this or that
they see my life from where they're at
pretending not to hurt or cry
everything's fine,
they won't whine
because if they show some fear or weakness
perhaps the truth might hurt and they will be found out;
so a smile they keep
pretending along
singing and dancing the same boring song -
"How are you?" "Oh, I'm great, thanks!"
"I am this and I am that"
But, could revealing pain and shame bring possible triumph
in this walk through hills, valleys, walls, fences and windows without a frame?
Does a soft petal have the same impact as a "bull in a china shop?"
Now back to You from that aside.
Occasional hurt is fine, i say
as long as you pick me up even when I do not pray,
and there is a purpose for everything under the sun;
it's what you've said
and what you meant -
to some absurb
but others peace,
and knowing that if i go this way or that
with a soft and open heart
i will find my way
as long as of you I am part.

Sea of Faces (a Poem by Cathy Gruman)

a sea of faces in this room
taken aback as i see a similarity between them and me
beyond their hair and makeup
their coats and hats and trendy shoes
with no gratuitous smiles
because they know it's what's inside that counts;
if they keep going, victory is near
lay it on the table
without fear
a beautiful sea of faces
transparent
honest
vulnerable
glowing truths preside
as all their fears begin to subside.

"A Side of Humankind" (A poem by Cathy Gruman)

he learned a new side of people this day
when he was walking to the dime store with his ten cents
a kite he was going to buy
to take it out and fly
he was seven
off he went to get his kite
the kite he grabbed
the merchant paid
and he headed out the door
across the way a bully stood
and eyed this little boy
walking innocently
ready to go out and fly.
And as the bully crossed the street
the youngster had no fear
because up until this moment
he had only good people near
love and security are what he'd known
so his instincts were properly shown
the bully grabbed his kite and broke it in half across his knee
just laughed and walked away
as his eyes welled up
the tears began to flow
the shock kicked in as he lost his innocent glow
he never knew until this day
that there was more to life than play
some people laugh, some cry
some things are happy, sometimes sad
he had even seen his dad mad;
these things he knew
they were familiar,
but in this moment
all he felt was why.