My Garden of Words

there is a porch 
in my mind’s quiet place 
broad, shaded, open 
where I sit and look out 
at my garden of words 

listening 
enjoying 
watching words waving 
in the gentle breeze of memories 
each seed 
an echo 

of planting 
caring 
weeding 
hoping 

waiting 

wondering 

would faith be rewarded 
would something glorious appear 

sometimes
unexpected beauty blossomed 
sometimes 
no matter the effort expended 
new life never sprouted 

yet still I garden with words 
planting, caring, hoping 
sitting on my porch each day 
marveling at the miracle 
of creativity 

tio stib
2019, 2020

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Insomnia

there are bedtimes when 
I dream in peace
a mind released to roam
then others when 
the clock grinds on
in purgatory’s womb
I lay now in eternal night
counting endless sheep
hoping this will somehow lead
to mindless, blissful sleep

tio stib

2015, 2018, 2020

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My Dementia Diary 97 – My Daily Lama

she smiles
they laugh
and lives are lighter

I follow in her footsteps

Maria
my wife
the Child Buddha

my daily lama

her memory is the light
guiding me forward

tio stib
2017, 2020

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Hand in Hand

the first time we walked together
we got lost
the perfect path
to knowing each other

she never complained
simply smiled
marveled at flowers and bird
held my hand

trusted

we’ve walked on
through mountain meadows
singing with bees and butterflies
dancing barefoot on foggy beaches
gleefully splashing in the waves
hiding under an umbrella in Spring rain
sampling strawberries at the Farmers’ Market
gossiping with passing neighbors
skipping to the grocery store
plopping onto our favorite bench

hand in hand

we walk on

 

tio stib

2019

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Night Walk

as comets streak cross galaxies
I dance down a puddled street
splashing through a sea of stars
reflections wet my feet

I walk past lamp lit skeletons
their leaves now lost and drowned
and wonder on this winter night
where can truth be found

Tio Stib

2014, 2019

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River of Words

River of Words

my life floats down a river of words
on paragraphs, syllables, tales once heard
they call out as I drift by
love and pain, both truth and lies

emphatic “yes!”
a stolid “no.”
the overused, unhelpful “so”
“goodbye”
“forever”
“I’ll be there”
“why not?”
“you said”
“I don’t care”
“quiet, please”
“how can I think?”
“have you ever seen the sky so pink?”

the words speed up
the rapids roar
fearful sounds from times before
then I’m lost and swept away
chaos and cacophony
gulping right and spitting wrong
gasping as I’m thrown along
shouting voices, “me! me! me!”
screaming insecurity
then bashed on conflict’s argument
my heart gives out
my soul is spent

in drowning plight
I see a dove
one final thought
remember

love

the verbal roar falls far behind
consciousness comes back to mind
as grace, sweet heaven, sets me free
and quiet waters welcome me

my life floats down a river of words
heading towards a voice unheard
yet whispers on the waves call me
“you can, dear one, you can be free”

love

love

love

tio stib

2017, 2019

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Breaking Trail

in winter stillness
ancient aspens watch
a chickadee flitting past
feathered music
bouncing
over infinite blue

alone
atop the buried meadow
a man paused
turned
looked back at the trampled snow
the trail of footsteps
each print a shadowed testament
to sweat falling from his brow

all he could see was white
reflected memories in a sea of snow
light’s harsh truth
stinging weary eyes

a deep sigh
a gasp of icy air
a hesitation in the heartbeat of being

a smile

he chooses life

again

tio stib

2016, 2018, 2019

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A Season for Adventuring

rocketing through a cacti forest
past towering sentinels frozen in moonlight
night air and music blasting through the cockpit
singing with Cat Stevens
Riding on the peace train

I’m speeding into wildness at 3 a.m.
crossing into the unknown
road tripping
on the loose

Fall has called me forth
to a season for adventuring

ghosting through the morning mist
as day slides from gray to gold
I’m pulled by hunger into a small cafe
cradling a warm coffee cup
I spy the famished hiker beside me
demolishing a plate full of pancakes

he turns and smiles

Fall is freedom
the work is done, the harvest in
I’m on the road again

mornings are cool now
Fall brings a sharpened awareness
a time to wipe fog from my glasses

as growing sunlight melts shadows from the river
cold water swirls about my shivering thighs
I cast to a distant riffle
the line lays out softly
the fly disappears in a splash

lost in the sweet perfume of pine sap
following a dusty trail of memories
the buzz below me sounds familiar

Jeez!

Damn! Helluva rattlesnake!

all those blue highways
all those maps, long before GPS
all those little country stores
all those stops to buy a soda, asking directions

where the heck is Boggan’s Oasis?

and the magic of those unexpected moments

chasing wild horses through a sea of purple sage
eyeing eagles falling from heaven in their mating aerobatics
cresting a final ridge to discover Shangri-La
an azure lake sparkling in an alpine meadow

immersed
alone
in a hot springs pool
steam rising into nothingness
feeling forever in all directions
soul steeped in gratitude
as sky slips from gold
to pink
to gone

I will not travel these roads again
but they will haunt my heart when
once again
Fall calls the vagabond
to a season for adventuring

tio stib

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My Dementia Diary 71 – What We Might Have Been

in the blackness of eternal night
I wonder what we might have been

had fate not gulped us whole

what roads would have called us on
what waves swept us to other lands
what mountains echoed with our joy
what babies cooed, what friends cajoled
what rainbows chased
what dreams

had fate not gulped us whole

and yet, in soul’s silence
as I hold her hand so soft and still
I know peace

life lived
though briefly

together

tio stib

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Is There Anything Sweeter?

once
my life was a never ending to do list
every minute, every hour, every day
riding the nowhere train
always something to be done
another meeting, another deadline, another promise to keep

the notion of a nap was a faraway fantasy

then

I jumped off-

now

today’s calendar is blank
an empty page
uncluttered, unfettered, unpromised
the delicious bliss of nothingness

what to do on this sumptuously lazy afternoon

the easy chair beckons
a deep breath, a sigh, a shuttering of eyes

happy memory movies play across my mind

is there anything sweeter than an afternoon nap?

tio stib

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