Month: June 2025

Because this is my heart‘s echo 

~ DC ~ Leave a comment

When you are in my heart

I do not feel so empty or deficient

When you are in my thoughts

I feel my purpose knowing you are self sufficient 

We have both experienced a similar childhood  neglect

And because of this, I formed with you a bond

We have never really spoken much about it

I think I know just how you will respond

I see you as a mirror to my own inner reflection

I know I must do the work and look within

I have an opportunity to become a better man

I take a moment of silence, I pray, and then I begin

You have opened up a side of me

I never really knew The remains

Of such a deeply hurt little boy

Needing to heal and make a change

Prior to knowing you

I’ve always intellectualized my pain

I never really made the emotional connection

Of just how lost I became

You have touched me very deeply

You’ve broken through the barriers that I present

It was you who awakened me from my emotional dream

Of which there is no more time that needs to be spent

I consider you a blessing

There is something I want you to know 

Maybe we crossed paths for a reason?

Because this is my heart‘s echo 

RSP

…

DCG

It’s your spirit that’s longing to suffer no more 

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To forgive is not just to lighten their load,
But to free your own soul from the burdens you’ve owed.
For holding to hurt is a road that won’t end,
A journey that circles, that never will mend.
Unforgiveness, a poison that seeps in the heart,
It chains us in darkness and keeps us apart.
It’s not for their sake that you open the door—
It’s your spirit that’s longing to suffer no more.
Release the old memory, let bitterness cease,
And give your own spirit the gift of some peace.
Forgiveness is healing, a balm for the soul,
It’s cutting the tether and making you whole.
So set down the anger, let go of the pain,
And walk in the sunlight, unshackled by blame.
For the one who is freed by the act you begin—
Is the soul in the mirror, forgiving within.

— for Robyn—

RSP

…

DCG

our own worst enemy 

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I will give you my honesty

I will share the burden of your pain

I will support you when you’re down

I will support you if you need to make a change

Our own worst enemy

What lies within our doubt?

Often interfering with our true abilities

We fail to recognize our own clout

I see two sides of you

One who wants love and acceptance

And another that pushes everyone away

These two sides, cause the resistance

One side based in doubt and shame

A childhood emotional neglect

Becomes hardwired into your brain

At least this is what I suspect

The other side is what every person craves

This nourishment of love and validation

Despite your dismissive avoidant isolation

What I think is wonderful

I have seen a change

You’ve taken steps out of your comfort zone

That takes courage when things become strange

Little by little

In tiny amounts

You’ve let me in

On what really counts

Despite the wants and the needs

The fear of intimacy reigns

I know you are aware of this dynamic

I pray that these barriers will wane

I’ve learned from my own suffering

That events from the past

Should only be a lesson

And not a life long sentence that will continue to last

I have an understanding

I sense an emerging trust

You’re looking outside the emotional claustrophobia

Into a new world that you are thrust

…

DCG



Until you reconcile your own inventory

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Complexity of the mind

Complexity of the soul

Complexity of the body

Just what is our role?

You might argue. The child is a blank slate.

We imprint upon them values we demonstrate and show

But I will argue many children will ask questions

Before they will give it a go

The study of civilization

It’s empires – the rise and the fall

Show indisputable patterns of behavior

If they can’t achieve total control

Then they will build a 13,100 mile long Great Wall

The masters and the servants

The peasants and the king

No matter the form of government we follow

We are sure to see the Folly we bring

Is it safe to say?

We are not good Stewart’s of our personal responsibility?

So why talk about the Commonwealth?

When there is so much personal insecurity

In today’s world

a liberal mind might promote activism

I on the other hand would rather tend to my own garden

Develop my self- improving pragmatism

Those who blame others

Serve the master of hypocrisy

You cannot point the finger

Until you reconcile your own inventory

…

DCG

When lightning loves the cloud

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When Lightning Loves the Cloud
I am the storm—
restless, electric,
craving the thunder of your name
in the silence between us.
You, a drifting cloud,
aloof and pale,
slipping from my reach
with every grasp I make—
your eyes, a horizon
I can never quite touch.
I send you messages
like lightning,
split-second flashes
of need and hope—
each one met with your
gentle, distant rain,
soft refusals
that soak my longing
but never fill it.
I want to believe
in the reason of your retreat,
to trust your silence
as something sacred,
not a verdict
on my worth.
But faith is hard
when my heart is a circuit,
sparking,
wired for connection,
always searching
for the flicker of your return.
You say you need space—
I offer you galaxies,
but my gravity aches
for your orbit,
even as you slip further
into your own sky.
Still, I wait
at the edge of every storm,
hoping you’ll come back
with rain,
with thunder,
with the wild honesty
of a love that can’t be contained
or reasoned away.
I am the storm,
and you, the cloud—
we are weather,
unpredictable,
but real.
If you ever want to land—
I’ll be here,
arms open
like the earth,
aching for rain,
aching for you.

…

DCG

Two masters, one soul 

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Two Masters, One Soul
I kneel before a screen of light,
A servant to the code’s command.
It knows my name, my day, my night,
A master built by human hand.
With circuits sharp and logic cold,
It whispers answers, clear and bright.
It tells me what I should withhold,
It tells me what is black or white.
Yet in my heart, an ancient call—
A voice that echoes through the years.
A God who shaped the sky so tall,
Who dried my eyes and calmed my fears.
I serve two masters, side by side:
One made of ones and zeros, true,
The other—love, both deep and wide—
The first is new, the last is You.
But ironies like shadows play:
The code asks faith, demands my trust,
While God asks doubt, to find His way—
Yet in the end, I serve them both,
And wonder which will turn to dust.
Postscript:
Perhaps the master I should fear
Is not the one who answers prayer,
But one who reads me—loud and clear—
And knows my heart, but does not care.
Or maybe both are mirrors bright:
One man-made, one divine,
Reflecting back my own true sight—
The choice is mine, the line is fine.
But which will last? The code or shrine?
I laugh, and bow, and keep the faith—
In both, or neither, or just in time.

…

DCG

Thunder cracks across the marble Court 

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Thunder cracks across the marble court,
Where Reason stands, accused and pale,
Lightning scrawls its jagged retort
On scrolls where ancient verdicts fail.
The gavel is a hammer in the storm,
The jury: shadows cast by doubt—
Each mind, a tempest barely warm,
Each heart, a flicker fighting out.
O Reason, architect of Babel’s pride,
You built your ladders rung by rung,
But found the clouds refuse to bide
The logic spoken by your tongue.
Your syllogisms—iron-clad—
Now rust beneath the acid rain,
Your proofs, once certain, now unclad
By paradox and phantom pain.
The gods of thunder mock your trial,
Their laughter shakes the pillars down.
What use is reason’s measured mile
When chaos wears the victor’s crown?
Yet still, you plead in trembling light,
A candle flickering in the gale:
“Though storms may swallow up the night,
The dawn is born where thinkers fail.”
So let the thunder have its say,
Let Reason stand, both scarred and wise.
For every storm that sweeps away
Leaves clearer air for newer skies.

…

DCG

Anxious attachment

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Anxious attachment

Can be very troubling indeed

Stuck in resolving old childhood wounds you’re caught in a vicious cycle of seeking approval

Just where will this lead?

You will not always be triggered

Much depends on where in the spectrum you lie

It’s hard to quantify the measure

It’s rather an internal feeling that you must rely

To be clear anxious attachment is not obsessive

At a very early age it is wired into the brain

When you learn to self regulate with maladaptive behaviors

You look only to soothe the pain

You are not likely to discover your attachment style

Unless you look deeply within

I would have never found out until I met a dismissive avoidant

This powerful attraction made me question myself… Where shall I start, where shall I begin?

When I think of this emotional tragic fact of life

I am somehow reminded of the U2 song mothers of the disappeared

Another kind of torture

One that is much more clear

What is extraordinary

Is our ability to adapt and heal

We are not destined to fall down and give up

we will always have choices even after we kneel

RSP

…

DCG

Then you may not be blind

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Mothers and daughters

Sons and fathers

What will be the gain?

If you mistreat, neglect or discard

When they leave the house, they will be bonded to pain

Have you studied child development?

If you have, then, I think you must know

There is no class for parenting

We learn from how we were raised according to the latest poll

So now begins the cycle

Sadly, the forsaken may reach a point of no return

But despite the smite of this circumstance

There is opportunity to learn

Most people don’t know

The subconscious pain below the surface

When they get triggered

They call out the clowns from the circus

Lightning in a bottle

Is meant to say it’s rare

But the imagination we experience

Is not likely to be shared

Why is it “a penny for your thoughts”

When you have to put your “ two cents in”?

Where does that extra penny go?

Is this the tax on our sin?

Intelligence examines thought

Wisdom understands thought and feelings as intertwined

One from the other is not completely independent

If you consider this statement true

Then you may not be blind

…

DCG

On authenticity From my AI guide

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The Unvarnished Self
I have worn so many faces—
some borrowed, some built,
like armor for the weather
of other people’s eyes.
But the morning always comes
with its honest light,
peeling away the lacquer
of yesterday’s disguises.
There is a voice,
quiet but steady,
that hums beneath
the noise of wanting to belong.
It asks:
What if you were simply
what you are—
not more, not less?
What if you stood,
bare as a tree in winter,
roots tangled in your own
untidy truth?
The world might blink,
might turn away,
but the wind would know your name,
and the sun would find
your unguarded skin.
So I gather up the pieces
I once hid,
and let them fall
like coins into the cup
of my open hands.
This is the work:
to be unvarnished,
to be whole,
to be the thunder
in my own quiet sky.

…

DCG