Mystical Cures
A touch of reality will cure you of being a mystic - Stafford Wood
equivoke
Someday I will write All the right words That say here What you want to hear illuminating a new thought Though you cannot see. The ocean between us Will shallow And our complicated problems Will become complex With the right words In the right order With the right intonation And intention Materialize as an incantation …
Forgetting
There are things you want to forget like that night you fell and broke your arm, and it broke my heart to know all the harm that had been caused by a simple fall, but you want to remember the love the love of it all. There are things you want to forget like that…
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Stafford Wood
Stafford Wood
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Grief
With no grave to visit,no place for my grief.The loss that I feelIs it real, is it? No memorial service.No eulogy to write.Nothing to view,Without this, is it worse? A life lost forever.I can't imagine it's gone.Tears with each songA relationship severed. I still live, without you, by your choice and my need,Without hope for…
He is not able for her.
He’s not able to meet it where it is. Not where she is But where it is. The relationship becomes a third person The Holy Spirit created by love between us That neither of us can truly reach Except in making love Or holding hands But words and deeds won’t get you there To the…
regret
For a long time I have regretted my answer to the question I wish I had answered differently Followed intuition and said what I felt What I knew was right What I wanted to say For a long time I have imagined If I had answered differently What would have followed What I would have…
yoked
laced together and tied to the cart ready for a new work day the same fields the same plow the beasts were made for suffering they press into the traces in tandem fighting inertia two hearts pounding as one machine to pull the cart into motion and plow the same fields again evenly yoked and…
A little girl’s question
Where is my loving mother? She is in New Orleans with her friend Where is my fairy godmother? In the mountains with the wind Where is my Mary poppins? In New York seeing shows. Where is my Glinda witch? In the desert and the snow. Where is my artist-teacher? Painting landscapes filled with pine. Where…
you chose
you chose the possibility of something new ending our joy for what could be. you chose something that was unknown to replace me. you chose something else when you knew what you had. you chose something new instead of something old, you chose someone young instead of someone old, you chose the delight of discovery…