Susan’s Eyes
I look deep into Susan’s eyes
And read stories that they tell
She tries to hide them from us all
Especially from herself
As I peek through those brown-eyed panes
And see back through her years
Of love and dreams and hopes wished for
Of screams and pain and tears
Her days are spent behind facades
Her stories dark as night
The evils she has kept inside
Would make most quit the fight
She searches for a one true love
But is reluctant to take hold
And surrender herself one more time
To be used, left in the cold
She lives a life of looking out
And wishing she could play
But never will because of fear
Of losing one more day
She wants to feel a loving touch
One of life’s simple pleasures
A hand to hold as sunset dims
And memories to treasure
She’d like to find someone who is
Very genuine and real
To help her clean out all those fears
To help her once more feel
She lives her life in fits and starts
Of comings and her goings
She looks forever but cannot find
She leaves us never knowing
Her search was over on the day
They placed her ‘neath the sod
And she walked through Heaven’s gate
And held the hand of God
Moments in Time
A moment in time is a small, brief experience you have in life that eventually has a great impact on you. In fact it can change you forever. The older you get the more you notice the affect some of the moments in time you’ve experienced have had on you.
Let me take you back to a moment in time for me that happened a little over 25 years ago. At one point in my tenure with the Wichita Police Department I taught the D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) Program to 5th grade classes in the public and parochial schools. This particular incident took place at Longfellow Elementary School located in south Wichita (it has since been closed).
The area this school served was at the bottom of the socioeconomic scale. Of the 30 or so 5th grade students I taught only 2 could read at the 5th grade level, most read at the 1st or 2nd grade level. The families these kids came from qualified for all kinds of public assistance so food usually wasn’t an issue, but clothing could be and “extra” things that made life more interesting and fun generally could not be found in their homes. Besides the lack of material possessions these kids were starved for attention.
As part of each D.A.R.E lesson I answered questions at the beginning of class that the students had written down. An option for them, if they wanted to talk to me in private, was to write down this request and I would see them after class. One day a young man we’ll call Timmy asked to speak to me.
Timmy was about 11 years old, had red hair, a gap in his front teeth and was wearing a dull yellow long-sleeved checked shirt, the same shirt I had seen him wear for several weeks in a row. Timmy sat at the far right hand side of the classroom and usually kept to himself. When he came out into the hallway to speak to me I began to guess what this talk could be about. Would he tell me that kids had made fun of him? Maybe it would be that he wanted to be a policeman someday or had an uncle who was a security guard somewhere (I’d get a lot of that). Regardless, what problem could a 5th grader have that I, the awesome D.A.R.E. officer couldn’t handle in two minutes or less? Then my moment in time came.
As we stood in the hallway just outside of the classroom Timmy looked up at me and tears began to fill the bottom of his eyes. His face had the look of someone who was desperate and he said, “Officer Floyd, my brother “suicided” himself and I don’t know what to do.” No amount of police training could have prepared me for that moment. The shame I felt at my arrogance and presumption was great.
I knelt down and hugged Timmy and let him cry on my shoulder. For the next 15 minutes Timmy had my undivided attention. I don’t remember what I told him and it doesn’t matter because I’m sure it was inadequate to have any kind of long-lasting impact. When we finished I had to let Timmy go back into the classroom knowing at the end of the day he would have to go back home where there was little emotional support and he would have to face his demons by himself.
Ever since that day I have wondered how Timmy, or anyone in a similar position as Timmy, would make it to tomorrow. How did they make it to each tomorrow? For over 25 years I have thought about this and finally last month I wrote a poem titled Escape that answers how I imagine they do it. I’ll post it after this in the “For Real” section.
Lessons from my moment in time:
1. Don’t be an arrogant ass. You don’t have all of the answers.
2. Never presume children only have child-sized problems.
3. Appreciate what you have including your family.
4. Treat each other with love because you don’t know what they are going through.
5. If you know how to make it to your tomorrow, help someone who may not.
Blessings.
Escape
Tired of running, looking back
This is all insane
Needing rest and seeking love
Still hiding from the pain
I close my eyes and climb the stairs
That reach into the clouds
To where my ship awaits for me
Away from noise and crowds
As sails unfurl and anchor’s weighed
I sail for the unknown
Through the yet un-angry sea
As timbers creak and moan
I quietly sail my homemade ship
Among the galaxies
Past worlds unknown to mortal man
These are my seven seas
Silently among the stars
In surreal atmosphere
The hand of God protects and guides
No serpents harm me here
I have mapped out and set a course
To outrun my past
And will captain this old ship of mine
For however long it lasts
For now I find that there is peace
While my present slips from view
I wish you could come and sail with me
But there isn’t room for two
You see I have no strength within myself
To stand and make a fight
So I must sail my silent ship
To escape the awful night
It’s the only way I can defend
And survive just one more time
So I escape to where I can be free
Safe within my mind
Glass Fiddle
I’m stuck in the middle
Of life’s ugly riddle
So play glass fiddle
Play a song for me
The expert crawled inside my head
And said this is all wrong
And if I want to be successful
Then I should sing his song
But his song it only had one note
That played over and over again
And just one word to memorize
Me, me, me through the end
His song it left me empty inside
And into a ball I curled
There’s got to be more to my life
In this place we call the world
But the experts meddle and twist things up
And turn them all around
I think I need a different song
With a very different sound
The glass fiddle plays such delicate notes
And they penetrate your soul
They take your body’s empty vessel
And fill it ‘til it’s full
With strings as fine as angel’s hair
And bow that’s crystal clear
That glass fiddle will play for only one
Or all who want to hear
The song is sweet as well as sad
But it reaches down inside
And shines its light into the darkness
So nothing there can hide
It warms the coldest of the cold
And makes things right again
It places my feet upon a path
And guides me to the end
I’m stuck in the middle
Of life’s ugly riddle
So play glass fiddle
Play a song for me
Circle the Wagons
The best advice
Pointed me to the west
That’s your direction, son
It would be best
Follow after the sun
Chase it as it sets
Circle the wagons, boys
They’re coming for what’s left
A caravan of refugees
At best a motley crew
But with scant provisions
We will have to make due
Before we arrived
Gabriel’s trumpet blew
Circle the wagons, boys
That angel’s after you
Crossing mountains rugged
Fording streams of blue
Chased by evening’s storms
Refreshed by morning’s dew
Specks upon the plain
Of the prairie’s majestic view
Circle the wagons, boys
For now there are so few
Days of anguish
Nights of fright
Our bones have been bleached
To the whitest white
It has come to this
An Alamo stand
Circle the wagons, boys
I’m the last man
Life Syndrome
A small girl
A big world
No sound
Future sight
Where is peace?
We fight
Bad is good
Good is bad
Give it up
Not to be had
Drive a car
See pollutants
Find where we are
Observe the mutants
Live forever
Burn like Rome
It’s very clever
The life syndrome
Solitude in Nature
I followed the path through the trees
Life was all around me and yet
I was alone in their world
Calls in a foreign voice echoed
Sunlight filtered through like fingers
As I entered this life’s circle
Solitude is not really being alone
It’s more like being without
And also like being allowed within
Sights and sounds to absorb
Emotions and feelings to expel
A small freedom for the costs paid
The stump of a mighty oak waited
Former grandfather of the realm
As I seated myself and waited
For uncommon wisdom and wit
Timeless intelligence is the blood
That courses through its veins
Feeding on this new-found hope
Charging my insides with riches
Familiar peace swells within me
Worries like worn out guests leave
A final salute to stress and strife
A welcome security in our universe
To be as one or one within
A sanctuary of time and less
I envy this system of our God
Order and discipline well-oiled
Each in its time and place
Forever and limited in time
As man I have missed out
And complicated the simple
Nature restores what the world takes
We force what we cannot have
We take what we cannot have
And rob ourselves of eternity
Walk On By
Born by the book
With no place to hide
Caught on an island
No feelings inside
Raised in my own world
Couldn’t even dream
Started running blind
Into the next scene
Where is my family
I constantly cry
I don’t stand a chance
I will never fly
Where am I going?
Am I alive?
I’m just a missing person
Wishing to survive
One small void
In both time and space
So well disguised
You can’t see my face
I would shed a tear
If I knew how to cry
Don’t stop for me
Just walk on by
As I hurried along well-worn paths
Among distant forests and glens
I told myself I was searching now
And not merely running away again
In a valley near a laughing brook
I came upon a gentle old Man
He was sitting on an old fallen log
An ancient walking stick in his hand
He greeted me like a dear old friend
And said, “I’ve waited a long time for you.
You came here seeking the unknown
Let me show you the way to the truth.”
He said, “You know me from long ago
From glimpses in shadows and dreams.
I’ve watched you from the darkest corners
And shined on you in sunlit beams.
This valley you are to journey through
You must follow all the way, my friend,
And though the trail is rough and hard
It will eventually come to an end.
When you emerge on the other side
You will come out wiser and stronger.
Some valleys you can quickly pass through
But this one will take much longer
Your quest will not be over then
You must climb up to the next rise,
Then raise your arms into the heavens
And embrace the cloudless skies.
Ask there the questions of you heart
Once you reach the top of the hill,
And in the wind will be your answer
In a Voice that’s small and still.
Heed the Voice that whispers there
And hide it safe within your heart.
The Voice can only ask and guide
You still must complete your part.
Your trail now leads you deeper down
So you must travel with all care,
Do not worry about dangers, son
Because where you are I will be there.
You will not see me so please have faith
Every day I’ll be walking with you,
To fight the battles you cannot see
And make sure you get safely through.
We will meet again some glorious day
When the Voice beckons you ‘Come Home’,
Believe that I am always close by.”
And then the old Man was gone.
I found myself alone once more
The brook seemed to laugh at me
A struggle raged inside of my mind
Would these things spoken really be?
I glanced over at the old fallen log
And saw the old Man’s walking stick there
I picked it up and determined then
That I would carry it with all care
He left it as a reminder to me
That He would always be near
So I could march through this dark valley
Never fainting or needing to fear
‘The Word’ was carved upon the handle
In letters deep and rough
The Voice in the wind whispered saying,
“Lean on this when times are tough.”
Boldly into this valley I trek
The first of many in my journey
But I am not afraid because I know
The old Man is watching over me
Lonely is the echo’s cry
Where never one should be
Silent as a broken bell
Since all around did flee
The fertile mind begins its search
For thoughts so wild and free
In waves connecting one and all
That flow from sea to sea
Then Fear arrived in dreadful garb
And hunted us at home
But we will rise up from the dust
We are this valley’s bones
The Quad is filled with fire brought down
From angel’s far above
It brings a peace we’re longing for
Surrounding us with love
We struggle now to stand and fight
Our losses to regain
And bloom again as wildflowers
After a springtime rain
So from the ashes we lift up
Our spirit strong and right
And boldly move in one accord
From darkness into light
We’ll march once more, a mighty force
In waves of red and blue
And arm in arm we will reclaim
Together – me and you