Proetry
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Proetry
| Shadows Dance by Dannah Hayes-Macarthur Shadows dance, They prance around the bed…loom overhead, Ghosts whisper and taunt… All that was born with you is splintered, Scattered, spattered… And time heals no wounds. It festers and becomes an angry, debilitating dis-ease… Time heals no wounds… It is the quicksand of despair forcing you down against the last of your hope Until, in total exhaustion, you relent because it is easier to Be invisible, numb. Shadows dance... So you learn to hide your head. Shadows dance… So you shove the fear down… Until you become the fear. One day you realize that you are broken. Behind you a trail of shards that don't fit together… The shadows still dance, The ghosts still whisper and time has not healed the wounds. Then someone is placed in the middle of your path… They hold your hand as you recall That field of wildflowers Where the dewdrops sparkled like diamonds… Little fingers reverently touching the petals... Slowly gazing up at the clouds that play above… Laying back and feeling the earth move. Innocent, whole… Where being safe was not an issue. And someone allows you to travel to the pain Of when something gripped your soul and with cruel, stone cold fingers Ripped your innocence away. They walk you through that deep, dark valley where you were Forever changed. And the shadows dance and the ghosts whisper. Someone teaches you to challenge the shadows, Converse with the ghosts, And pick up the pieces of your splintered spirit… One by one. Time heals no wounds… It is what you do with Time that heals the wounds, Quiets the ghosts and allows The shadows to dance as you sing to them. Thank you, Valerie, for being my someone. Written for the United Way annual convention in 2000. All rights reserved © Dannah Hayes-Macarthur 2000/dhm |
| Howling at the Moon by Dannah Hayes-Macarthur The emptiness of his soul; gripping, dripping from hollow hunger... spun him, wrought him with thunderous longing. The most unholy sound began in his groin... ripped through his jaws like a flaming arrow. The howl met her heart; filling a void too deep to touch... she shivered, moaned and whimpered as the clouds unveiled the golden moon shining down on her like a spotlight. She caught her breath... she trembled... poised, with head held high... Every sinew straining, she exploded with her answer that shattered silence into attention. His heart filled, he closed his eyes. She lay her head on her arm and knew. HHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOooooooowwwwwWWLLLLLLLing at the moon just does that to you. All rights reserved © Dannah Hayes-Macarthur 2000/dhm |
| Honesty by Dannah Hayes-Macarthur We ignored, in our romantic bliss; while we'd delight in that first kiss, someone would suffer if ever she knew we were doing things that lovers do. At our most honest moment in time, he poured out his fears and I, mine. It was not his nature to be a liar... he was sneaking around to conspire. Our splintered spirits at last agreed; through tears and fears and soulful need; we could not hurt someone by weaving desire made real by acts of deceiving. My heart is heavy and so is his. Oh God, how we'd have prized that kiss... until the stillness finally came and we'd be alone with ourselves again. I will love him for longer than time... I live in his heart and he, in mine. So, for now we will sing in tune... but only by Howling at the Moon. All rights reserved © Dannah Hayes-Macarthur 2000/dhm |
| I Get It by Dannah Hayes-Macarthur Where did it change from being about him to being about me? This miracle unfolding like a God-sent message to my heart… Teaching me, reaching for the treasures buried beneath the pain. Aha! I get it. I never envisioned bliss without a partner… Love without a lover… Life without someone making it safe and completing my space. Oh yes, I miss strong arms around me. I miss having someone to speak words of love to me. I miss the whole of his manhood. But, in his absence I have found me. And once you know the truth, you can't go back. The high of denial is forever gone. There is no return to ignoring the sound of your own truth ringing in your heart. It becomes a sacred sound. So, here I am, alone. And there are moments of sheer need to howl when I miss him. And I do miss him. But, I'm finished with dragging the pain behind me in order to define and validate myself. I am no longer there. I'm finished with the need to please everyone while ignoring my own needs. I am no longer there. And I have traveled farther … for, I am no longer in the place where I will hand over my dignity to anyone, not that he ever asked me to, for the sake of having a token body keeping me warm for a moment. I have found wonder in the Spirit of the Universe… Calling my name to the truth of who I am and what I was created for. I have a purpose. The beauty of it all is that I still can love him and not be with him… for without him, I would have never found my self. All rights reserved © Dannah Hayes-Macarthur 2000/dhm |
| I don't remember not being a poet. As a little child I would make up songs and sing into the wind as I rode my bicycle. There was always some kind of magic in music and words literally arrows to the heart. As a shy and tormented teen, set on righting a crooked world, words were my escape. I hid inside those little blue lines in my notebook. My guitar, notebook and my sketch pad were my friends and companions. Love touched me one time; for a moment. I felt its sweetness and purity. My young heart was torn when he went away. It became many songs over the years. Now, at last, I have that forever love that has always escaped me. David and I are soul mates, best friends and deeply devoted to eachother. All is right with the world now. I have learned many lessons which are reflected here, on this page. And I have begun a new song with David. |
"Every form of refuge has its price"...The Eagles