Marilisa, Come Home

Marilisa has been gone 

a very long time

her whole life, maybe

lost in plain sight

it's time for her

to come home now

long passed time

but she doesn't know how

she only knows outside looking in 

seeing not having, wishing to enter

but never any room

sorry we're full nothing for you

her mat read "Unwelcome" 

So she learned to keep small

to use the servant's entrance

do their  jobs, do them all

excluded, left out 

except for the work

nothing more than a tool 

left to rust in the yard

so she quit wishing then hoping

never wanting any more

when did wishing ever 

make them open the door?

she doesn't know where to enter

only where the exit is

she doesn't understand welcome  

let alone that she is

she got used to going solo

accustomed to hurt and scare

well ferberized,  left to fend

cries unheard, needs given no care

now she's never not worried 

so we have to tread with care

if we startle her, she'll bolt

and run off, all fears laid bare

but she really should  come in

we want her in here

it's well past her time

we must make her hear

maybe if we call real soft 

and leave the door ajar

she'll creep out and find it open,

and come in to where we are

Let's try and see if she'll answer 

she's ever so scared she may run away

but if we're gentle and patient

hopefully she just might stay

Softly now, "Marilisa, come home

it's safe and warm inside

we don't want you alone

it's bad and dangerous outside

you'll catch your death 

it's freezing there tonight

in this winter's bone cold

won't you come in to fire and light?

Come home, come in right now

this is your home too, my dear

no more unwelcome house of others

with no heat nor bed nor love near

There's plenty of room for you here

a loving and glad place to be

a Marilisa shaped space 

that nobody else can fill but thee

no angry adults to please 

you please us more than enough,

you're fine as you are, sweetie

time to quit sleeping rough

here it's right side round 

adults are grown up, they care for you

moms mother and dads father 

and kids are just kids here

you don't have to earn or pay

your money here's no good 

it's all freely given, little child

just as it always should 

come to your place at the table

fill a plate and take your seat

it's all for you and you're hungry

so hurry up, come and eat

Here's your bed soft and cozy

with Jo-Jo, blankie and bear

they're all waiting just for you

they've made a nest for you there

Your Jesus night light is on

no need to worry or fear

climb in, snuggle up it's okay

I'm always ready and near 

God, me and the angels 

will  keep watch as you sleep. 

float away to dreamland

and may your dreams always be sweet

We'll listen to hear if you wake

or cry out in the night

I'll run to comfort and soothe

so rest your head and sleep tight

Winter Wonder Wanders

"Time of Wonder" by Robert McClosky details his memories of a Maine island summer. My favorite times of wonder are spent in the dunes of the Big Lake in Michigan. Here's another Omi Ode to winter wander wonders by the lake. It's written from my 7-year-old self. At 60, all I can think of  is to stay warm in glacial cold winters. Back then, I'd have built a fort and lived outside, winter, spring, summer or fall. Picture is now.

summer wonder walks with grampa 

were warm and lake water wet

we walked through the dune woods 

and swam in the waves of the big lake

fall was for chilly forest tromps

collecting acorns, moss and leaves

smelling someone's campfire perfume

and watching animals ready for winter

winter was snowy white wonder wanders 

through the back dune woods 

of cold-chapped cheeks 

and lent hankies to wipe drippy noses 

of grampa's check-red coat

and ear-flap hat and 

grama scolding him 

to make me wear my scarf

of little kitten me losing mittens 

of hating itchy knit hats

to say nothing of long soggy scarves

or sweaty scratchy coats

of plastic bags in boots 

to keep feet dry

and peanut butter kisses 

to snack on

trudging through wet snow

making the first and only

people footprints that day 

on tinsel-bright cake-frosting snow

lugging the old wooden toboggan

with gray mattress ticking seat

and cozy musty smell of attic

when snow was light enough to sled

me wanting a speedy saucer

but grampa said "try it like we did as kids"

on Hollister hill in Grand Rapids

and so we did

sledding till we were starved

and cold and wet and tired

ready for braunschweiger sandwiches 

and a fire in the basement

walking back in the footprints 

we made on the way there

leaving nothing but those

taking only memories and 

some nifty driftwood back home

Where did all my toys go?

I had a sock monkey

his name was JoJo

but he is gone, I don't know where

they're all gone

I had toys, once

I saw pictures of me with them

They have disappeared, by magic

Or maybe it's just me who's gone?

Some were sold to buy

Mommy and Daddy new toys

And then Stepmommy and StepDaddy

and their new kids

I didn't have many toys

but they were mine

gifts from Gramas and Grampas

Aunties and Uncles

A Barbie with camper

games of Clue and Life

A long-hair Chrissy doll and

Blythe whose eyes changed color

And books collected and saved

A complete Peanuts set

Sad Eyes and fairy tale

puzzles in cardboard cans

And Disney and Bible LPs 

They didn't get lost 

as things do when one ages

I didn't sell them

or give them away

They were taken almost 

as soon as I got them

well, I wouldn't have a place 

to keep them anyway

Homes and bedrooms being

thin on the ground 

shuffling between parents' houses

them moving every month or so

Why didn't they go along?

These past friends of childhood?

One day they were there, the next, gone

Why did I not ask after them?

I treasure my children's toys

lovingly stored in the basement

because they loved them 

and I love the children

I miss my  old friends now. 

They would be good reminders 

that I actually existed

beyond the few, sad memories

that are so different from what

they said were happy- real

but then, the little girl

would have had to be treasured too

So farewell, JoJo, Chrissy, Blythe

I hope you found happy homes. 

Thank you for being my friends

for awhile, back then.

Love, Marilisa

if i had my way...

whatever doesn't kill you

makes you stronger they say

it also leaves pain and scars

that never go away

we've allowed ourselves to be

conned into accepting injury

inflicted purposely by others

as something fortifying

nix, nyet, BS, WRONG

just excuses from perps

to hurt and hurt unchecked

and expect thanks and praise for the privilege 

if i had my way

we'd grow and mature

from love and care

not hurt and scare

that's what i tried to do

with the littles entrusted to me

not perfect nor even always well

operative word being try

to show up, to keep keeping on

to see, feel remorse, admit, apologize

when things went south

our little home version 

of sacrament of reconciliation

Alaska on my mind

me at 5 moved to Alaska from Michigan 

the big people who were parents 

were very busy they said doing missionary stuff

in which they had to be gone for a long time

so i got to play alone. A lot. 

with Mrs. Hammond the blind Tlingit lady

who made giant totem pole animals 

in tiny seed beads on blankets

i sat under her card table 

and collected the dropped beads

she was too old to play outside

and mommy and daddy were too busy

telling people about the good news

i never saw them much

except sometimes at dinner Mrs. Hammond made

so i roamed the beach collecting baby pink shells

i called them and sometimes abalone 

which i thought sounded like balony

climbing rocks at the base of 

the mountains, my mountains i fancied

and in the woods with my rolltop desk

an old stump with acorns and moss

i imagined were desk type stuff

with the bears and moose

too busy foraging to bother with a little girl

i watched an eagle fly over the bay

and a baby whale letting off steam

i admired a gushy snail who'd left her shell

and tasted the berries that grew in the swamp

that smelled like paradise might smell

happiest and scariest of memories

all live in the Alaska on my memory

being alone too much too young

having the adventures of a lifetime

Alaska on my mind

What a friend we have in Jesus

Heather was my best person friend 

for the time I was with her growing up

God should have been so the songs told me

but He was too confusing

too fair weather

Daddy and Mommy said they were God's voice

preaching the "good news" 

of what I was never sure

the god Mommy and Daddy were always gone 

And what's good about that? 

they said we were we

but we weren't they were they

and i was me, just me

and then they weren't they

they were he and she with new they

they said their new People were gods too

they had to be obeyed too

i thought there were only 3 gods in one person

and that we have a friend in Jesus

but they didn't want to be my friend

i tried, so hard it hurt

to do, to fix, to help, to be for them

but not hard enough for the new god People 

who didn't like me or want to be my friend

any more than the first god People. 

and i guess i got the love part wrong too

My bible said God is love

and He cares like a shepherd for sheep

But the for god People didn't care, weren't there

for me, just their new they

i saw other daddies and mommies who weren't god

who took care of their kids, kept them safe

loved them and liked them mostly

some even liked me

and wanted to be my friend

maybe the god People were love for other sheep

and their good news was only for them?

kids who weren't bad little lambs like me

sheep who were prettier, not fat, ugly 

who didn't get in their way or need things

i don't know how i made the god People mad

i never cried when god Dad left 

or god Mom didn't want to be with me

i tried to smile when god Mom's god Husband laughed at me

i tried to serve god Dad's god Wife as She said

But Gods knows everything and hate sin

maybe the god People saw sin i didn't  

i must not be good in my heart

that's why the god People don't like me

and why they don't want to be my friend

i am glad for Heather friend

A tale of a little vagrant

Life did not give me

what other kids took for granted.

bed, home, care, love 

those they said were for others

not for me

i spent most of my time

alone and lonely, wandering

no mom or dad care

in the street, at age four

anthrax notwithstanding

I pet a bunny with bloody nose

I told mom when I got home

she said he was dead and and I shouldn't have 

then at 5 in the park with the pedo

sounds like a Clue game

just don't use the bathroom, she said

but i did then lied and felt bad

for lying and upsetting mom

6 was at the docks that smelled of fresh coho

playing fisherman in my silly striped pants

jeered by other fishermen

for my twig pole and string

with barnacle bait

All these strange cities

lived in but a short time

they moved more than most people 

went in their attics

Always different places

with unfamiliar faces and new names

but the aloneness for the child

remained the same

and the dangers and risk

with no parent to watch

and confusion

at seeing other kids with theirs

But who cares? She's fine

We have more important things to do

She'll be okay and if she isn't

Oh well, one less mouth to feed