Before you
I was blind
I crawled and cried
as a child

my thoughts
were mere doubts,
inner shouts
that howled
and ground my awe

until when
you intruded
and diluted
my heart
in the world
of words' art
and in you. 

Freedom and liberty,
so often a catchphrase
sacrificing sanity
at the end of a smoking gun.

They're not concepts of faith or belief
they are complex ideas with no absolutes
that require thought, sacrifice, and grief
and need to weigh loss with answers.

We live together for better or worse
and freedom to kill is often the first
liberty lost.

So we consider what it means
when we lose the right to cause harm or blame
and gain the good of mutual nurture
guiding us to a better future.

with bandaged loin
shuffling step
before his twenty-fifth birthday
and long before I was born
he returned from
The Great War

she told me
‘doctors made cuts in the webs of his toes’
and, while he screamed his torment
she would pull them apart
until water turned to blood

she told me
at each and every beginning of day
for three long years
he wailed in a flood of
agony and despair
as she slowly drained
the toxins from his body
because his kidneys no longer did

in a corner-torn moment
she stands
in shades of grey
the new-born babe
swathed in woollen white
clutched tightly in her arms

before her in a wicker chair
his hands caress the napes
of the necks of the two small boys
who lean across his knees

all dressed in Sunday best
for a family album addition
to keepsake the new blessing

a happy picture

so you'd think

an intuition
for I know the story

I look closer
seek their eyes
find therein
emotional exposure