Heroes of Annihilated Empires

That is why I write – to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. ― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

Each person a collected marble every memory of them a tumbled stone like heroes of annihilated empires
Each person a collected marble, every memory of them a tumbled stone like heroes of annihilated empires.  Randstein

He sat silent at the table, his coffee hot and bitter.  He looked up to collect his runaway thoughts then continued to read an old book.  Around him life moved near light speed in tweets to Twitter.  Facebook connected ten thousand souls to only ten distracted minds that milled around in half-dazed skulls.  Next to him sat a woman. He knew in her day she was someone else’s love. Her hair was near solid gray, well dressed in blue, white, and spotless shoes.  She read a book he once read, perhaps thirty years ago. Continue reading “Heroes of Annihilated Empires”

We’ve Been Liebstered!

“We are sun and moon, dear friend; we are sea and land. It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn to see the other and honor him for what he is: each the other’s opposite and complement.”
― Hermann Hesse, Narcissus and Goldmund

liebster award
We’ve been Liebstered!

We recently received our first award here at Survivors Blog Here from Rob Goldstein. Rob’s blog,  Art by Rob Goldstein, is a collection of writing, poetry, art, and photographs that support his theme of living with dissociative identity disorder (DID) and the right to full access to health care for people with mental illnesses.  Rob’s many works give us a close-up view of the struggle with DID and the challenges of health care for chronic illness.  Rob’s talent and honest forthright approach humanizes this struggle by bringing it out into the light and showing us the face of a spirit that strives to live a normal and productive life, to gain acceptance by dispelling fear and judgement, and to educate us with a gentle touch and calm tone.  Thank you Rob! You are an inspiration and a true Liebster in the WordPress community. Continue reading “We’ve Been Liebstered!”

STICKS and STONES by Topaz Winters

One’s dignity may be assaulted, vandalized and cruelly mocked, but it can never be taken away unless it is surrendered. ― Michael J. Fox

Rose and Stone
“I sometimes pretend I’m a Phoenix” – Topaz Winters, from Sticks and Stones

 

It’s my pleasure to bring you another poem submitted by Topaz Winters. Her poem takes us inside the maelstrom of a wounded spirit stuck between feeling the reality of unrelenting anguish from abuse, trauma, abandonment, and the dream of love and life as first imagined. The journey to healing is never swift or without setbacks captured in the line, “I sometimes pretend I’m a phoenix.” Topaz’s advocacy for survivors and awareness is greatly appreciated.  Topaz offered her poem as a tribute to the readers and authors that know abuse and trauma all too well. Thank you for your continued support, Topaz.  And now, dear reader, I submit to you, Sticks and Stones by Topaz Winters. Continue reading “STICKS and STONES by Topaz Winters”

A Faded Rose

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. ― Louis de Bernières, Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

A Faded Rose

In a follow on to my side trip into aging gracefully, I made a few tweaks to this previous post to give a snapshot into the thoughts one has for a loved one as they grow old together and frailty begins to pull one away from the other.

The metaphor of life from a faded rose in my garden struck me one day as I watched it fade, almost over night.  Memories of youth and life played like a song in my mind even though the words played hide and seek as I searched my mind to no avail to remember dates, names, and faces of those long gone. How our lives fade came to me all too clear in that moment through the lens when the rose came into focus. Continue reading “A Faded Rose”

A Walk With Eternity

“We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

The Journey

 

I promised myself long ago that my life would be a walk with eternity.  I didn’t pray to be spared sickness, heartache or any dark moment life can bring.  When those dark moments found me, I never prayed for the light, a cure, a way around.  I prayed for strength to carry on.   Continue reading “A Walk With Eternity”

Castle Walls

CASTLE WALLS

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.”

― Joseph Campbell

Castle Walls

 

Juron felt safe in his castle. He was of noble stock, the ruler of his domain – a population of one soul complete with body. Juron and his two aether-friends lived a carefree life. They roamed about the castle of their own free will. Juron’s imagination and shadow played gleefully but never too far away from him. The freedom to choose where he would go and what room he would visit gave him a sense of the explorer’s wonder. Continue reading “Castle Walls”

Upon Realizing I’m Old

ALBERT


“Age is not a particularly interesting subject. Anyone can get old. All you have to do is live long enough.” ― Groucho Marx

 

Hotel Staircase

Albert was eighty-eight years old today. He planned dinner with the boys to celebrate. Eighty-eight years. Not a small accomplishment by any means given the many challenges Albert had weathered in his life. He fought in the big war against the Nazis in Africa, Sicily, and up the boot of Italy until wounded. He spent two years in recovery, going from hospital to surgery and back again until it was all a blur. Continue reading “Upon Realizing I’m Old”

The Wind Upon My Face

Windmill

I lived for the wind upon my face.
Rain and sun cleansed me;
But, the wind was my fate.
No storm pushed me from its path.
I stood steadfast and strong.
In time, the work I lived to do,
Nourished the soil and did no wrong.
My toil was the measure of my worth,
And all rejoiced in song.
I turned to the wind and gave my life,
My reward a productive earth.
But, then I aged and skipped a beat,
My body bent and worn.
I’ll not die an untimely death,
brought down by grueling pace,
My value from me torn.
I’ll stand erect, locked in my stance,
And weather every storm.
I shall simply live for the wind upon my face.