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.

Love Wins (A Poem by Cathy Gruma)

Someone lied to me
and told me I needed to even the score;
that I must mock back;
they have to understand what they did to me
before I forgive them.
Someone lied to me
when they told me
to "put them in their place"
to stay away until they finally wake up
and do their part
to satisfy my need to be accepted and understood by them;
until they say,
"Oh, I am sorry
you didn't deserve that
you deserve so much more
I was wrong
I acted wrongly toward you
I am so sorry."
Someone lied to me
when they told me to get revenge
that turning the other cheek was a fairytale for weaklings;
the only thing to do is fight
to make them see
to get justice
for me.
As long as I live
I may never see justice for me.
I may never hear the words I need to hear
to help me let go and forgive,
but the lies I have heard will not remedy my soul
nor increase my understanding.
Forgive
Let go and see
not with hate or from a resentful place;
the truth is opposite
of what that liar said to me.
The truth chooses love
believes in love
lives love;
and knows that love has more power than the strongest and most powerful army of sticks, stones, guns, and words, of plans, schemes, retaliation and fear.
Love wipes out fear
brings peace.
That liar is still stalking me,
but his voice is muffled
because I choose not to listen.
Love wins.

I Remember (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

Horses and bikes and pools,
books and puzzles, coloring books and board games,
homemade cookies and cinnamon toast.
Homemade daisy curtains, I helped you make them.
They were yellow and orange on white cotton.
We squeezed the acrylic paint from the tube onto the fabric.
Eggs and bacon always seemed to be enough,
and Jello.
Hardwood floors and bunkbeds,
Hide and go seek until sundown, you always brought us in before dark.
Waiting for a Cinderella movie to begin,
we watched the clock in your bedroom, with the hands moving slowly to 7 p.m.
I remember your big hip earrings
your pretty hair
your pretty face
your eyeliner and mascara
and pretty lipstick
your "Jackie O" look.
I remember looking at you,
your walk dignified, your posture strong and elegant
but soft.
The little white church
where you brought us
and taught us.
The potlucks,
your singing groups and choir friends,
your laugh, your smile, your fun,
your face.
I remember our home
that you made for us
I remember you, mom
You.

Humbled by a Crackhead (A Poem by Cathy Gruman)

I learned about love from a crack head today.
I was blue and he was sober, his three hundred and eighty-sixth day.
In the parking lot we were talking.
I was troubled and he was thankful.
His life was turning around.
Dreadlocks and a missing tooth,
and he was smiling.
I told him my woes,
and he listened.
He used his history
to reveal a mystery
that his brokenness
is what put him together.
His history didn't fit today's story.
It made no sense to me.
Then I realized
as I looked into his eyes,
behind his face was saving grace.
The part that broke him
was no longer his disgrace.

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.