Do I Love You?

I stand in the night and stare up at a lone star, wondering what love means.  You whisper your desire—do I love you?  I dare say yes.  But my eyes drift back to that solitary star; my mind is plagued with intimate uncertainty. 

What art thou, Love?  Tell me. 

I contemplate what I know—the qualities love doth not possess.  Love lifts no cruel or unkind hand, for it seeketh no harm.  It shirks from constraints and demands, for tyranny is not love.  A boisterous voice never crosses love’s lips, for to speak with thunder chases its very presence from the heart.  Love inflicts no pain, no fear, no misery, but conquers all such foes.  It is said love is not selfish, yet it does not guilt those who are.  On a heart unwillingly given it stakes no claim.  Love is nothing from Pandora’s box; it is no evil, sin, or sorrow unleashed on this world. 

My eyes glimmer as the star I gaze upon twinkles with brightness I do not possess.  I recognize my smallness—my ignorance of the One whose hands placed that star in the heavens for me. 

He is love.  By His own mouth He proclaimed it. 

Again the whispered question hits my ear—do I love you?  I dare say yes.  But my eyes squint tight, wishing on a lonely star, wondering what love means.

— Richelle E. Goodrich, Smile Anyway

Copyright © 2013 Richelle E. Goodrich

Before the Dawn

In the darkest night the sun may seem like an extinguished match or an ember drowned by rain. 

A light forever lost.

The cold world grows steadily colder and shrinks like the abused, closing in on all sides.  Laughter, smiles, the glimmer of dancing eyes, and all else indicative of human brightness is gone.  Colors leeched from everything leave shadows and emotion dull-gray in their absence. 

Time is a void.  A moment feels eternal. 

Hope does not blossom in the darkness but withers fast, starving for what only the sun can offer.  As its petals turn to dust, fear blows in and sweeps the remnants away.  The soul succumbs by degrees to nightmares emboldened by the dead of night. 

All is lost!  All is lost! 

The wretched sun, repulsed by our nothingness,

has abandoned the lives in its care!  

And then the eyes open wide, 

seeing mountains take shape on the horizon.

~Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons

Copyright 2016 Richelle E. Goodrich

Christmas Story in Haiku Poetry

New light in the sky
announces a sacred birth.
Shine brightly young star.

Hallelujah song
carries on a gentle wind,
heralding a king.

Shepherds lift their heads,
not to gaze at a new light
but to hear angels.

"Unto you is born

in the city of David

a Savior for all."

Born on straw at night
under low stable rafters,
Baby Jesus cried.

Sheep and goats and cows
gather 'round a manger bed
to awe at a babe.

Wise men come to see
a child of greater wisdom
and honor divine.

Rare and precious gifts,

gold and myrrh and frankincense,

to offer a king.

Mary and Joseph
huddle snugly together.
They cradle God's son.

On this wise He came,

the Son of God to the earth.

A humble wonder.

A Word of Consolation

Poetry by Richelle E. Goodrich

A Moonless Knight

I wished upon the moon one night, bewitched by how it shone so white.  While staring up with some excite my eyes beheld a wondrous sight!  The moon, so lustrous and white, transformed into an armored knight who caused me just a moments fright when he jumped down from such a height.  No more a soft celestial light, he was my lover, day and night. 

This caused the world a serious plight.  How harsh a sting and deep the bite inflicted on the world, alright, to lose their blackest-hour light. 

And so I've come to set things right, to offer up without a fight my lover wished for one clear night.  I hold him close.  He hugs me tight, then climbs again to heaven's height to glow a bluer shade of bright.  I stare at my beloved knight, not wanting to be impolite, and in my heart with all my might I wish a wish that isn't right. 

Now and then the world still spites a shadowless and moonless night when we steal softly out of sight to hold each other 'til daylight and share in lovers’ true delight.

Contemplating Crazy Things

I contemplate a lot of things,

Like why the sky's a shade of green,

And how it is that lions fly

While birds with wings refuse to try.

It's strange how snowmen never melt,

And sweaty feet are sweetly smelt,

And how so commonly we see

Young hippos nesting in a tree.

I wonder how they get up there,

And why the world is mostly square,

And how huge every nose would be

If we had only one, not three.

I cannot guess why hills are flat,

Nor can I say why twigs are fat.

I do not know how mud keeps clean,

Or why small kittens act so mean.

And while I'm thinking all this stuff,

Consider black marshmallow fluff,

And how the rainbows twist and coil

Around the clouds down to the soil

Imagine if our teeth were white

I'd want to keep them out of site!

It's crazy stuff I see in dreams,

To contemplate so many things.

― Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

Copyright 2015 Richelle E. Goodrich

Happiness Found Me Alone

Happiness found me alone one day and took me by the hand.
He showed me how the sun gave out its warmth across the land.
Sadness found me content and smiling upward at the sun.
He talked of droughts and blindness and what burning rays had done.

Happiness found me alone again and pointed to the sky.
He showed me how the storms created rainbows way up high.
Sadness found me intrigued and took me to the rainbow’s end.
He showed me how it disappeared to ne’er return again.

Happiness found me alone and taught me how to sing a song.
He sang a dozen melodies as I chirped right along.
Sadness found me singing out and covered up his ears.
He said the noise was deafening, and wished he couldn’t hear.

Happiness found me alone and gave me seven coins of gold.
He showed me many fancy things that merchants often sold.
Sadness found me admiring the pretty things I’d bought.
He pointed out my empty purse and money I had not.

Happiness found me alone and helped me talk to someone new.
He called the boy my friend and said that I was his friend too.
Sadness found me together with my kind, attentive friend.
He whispered of betrayal and how broken hearts don’t mend.

Happiness found me alone and held me tight in his embrace.
He whispered kindness in my ear and kissed me on the face.
Sadness found me with Happiness but before he spoke at all,
I told him he’d have better luck at talking to the wall.
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

The Jealous Sun

"The sunlight whispers in my ear, his breath a warm, sultry tease.  I shrink and duck beneath a tree.  My eyes squint to scan the horizon for a glimpse of the wind, but there are no ashen ribbons or golden waves in sight.  He is missing. 

Trickling, tinkling notes reflect loudly off a chandelier of glimmering droplets.  The rain sings to me, and I shield my eyes, admiring the song.  Far off in my western view I expect to see snow, but the sun grows hot with jealousy, knowing this.  He refuses my snowman a place to set. 

My sight drops to search for the man in the moon.  Normally he rises dripping wet from out of the lake, often pale and naked, supple and soft to my caressing gaze.  On rare occasions he dons a pumpkin robe as luminous as fire.  Today he is draped in silks of the saddest blue.  My heart weeps as he steals up and away. 

An army of stars in shining armor come to my aid, and they force the sun into the ground—a temporary grave.  I am fed with a billion bubbles of laughter until I feel I will burst.  But the stars will not stop giving, and I will not stop taking. 

A kiss brands my cheek, and I turn abruptly to find my snowman.  He landed safely in the dark.  We hide from the man in the moon behind a curtain of flurries to dance on polished rainbows and feast on stars until I hear a fire-red growl.  The sun claws its way out of the soil, and everyone scatters."

― Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

Copyright 2015 Richelle E. Goodrich

In a Storybook

“How crazy it would be 

if the moon did spin 

and the earth stood still 

and the sun went dim!

How absolutely ludicrous 

if snakes could walk 

and kids could fly 

and mimes did talk!

How silly it would be 

if the nights were tan 

and the mornings green 

and the sun cyan!

How totally ridiculous 

if horses chirped 

and spiders sang 

and ladies burped!

How shocking it would be 

if the dragons ruled 

and the knights were dopes 

but the fish were schooled!

How utterly preposterous 

if rain were dry 

and snowflakes warm 

and real men cried!

I love to just imagine

all the lows as heights,

and the salty, sweet,

and our lefts as rights.

Perhaps it is incredible

and off the hook,

but it all makes sense

in a storybook!”

― Richelle E. Goodrich  

Copyright 2015

The Devil's Rose

You would never take a rose from a beast. If his callous hand were to hold out a scarlet flower, his grip unaffected by pricking thorns, you would shrink from the gift and refuse it. I know that is what you would do.

But the cunning beast will have his beauty.

He hunts not in hopeless pursuit, for fear would have you sprint all the day long. Thus, he turns toward the shadows and clutches the rosebud, crunching and twisting until every delicate petal is detached. One falls not far from your feet, and you notice the red spot in the snow. 

The color sparkles in the sunlight, catching your curious eye. No beast stands in sight; there is nothing to fear, so you dare retrieve the lone petal. The touch of temptation is velvet against your thumb. It carries a scent you bring to your nose, and both eyes close to float on a cloud of perfume.

As your lashes lift, another scarlet drop stains the snow at a near distance. A glance around perceives no danger, and so your footprints scar the snowflakes to retrieve another rosy leaflet as soft and sweet as the first. Your eye shine with flecks of golden greed at the discovery of more discarded petals, and you blame the wind for scattering them mere footprints apart. All you want is a few, so you step and snatch, step and snatch, step and snatch.

Soon, there is enough velvet to rub against your cheek like a silken kerchief. Your collection of one-plus-one-more reeks of floral essence.

Distracted, you jump at the sight of the beast in your path. He stands before his lair, grinning without love. His callous hands grip at thorns on a single naked stem, and you look down at your own hands that now cup his rose. But how can it be? You would never take a rose from a beast. You would shrink from the gift and refuse it. 

He knows that is what you would do.

― Richelle E. Goodrich 

Copyright 2015 Richelle E. Goodrich 

Discouragement, Fear, & Depression

“Discouragement, fear, and depression—
three villains who lurk in the dark.
They slip inside souls with a blindfold and goals
to shatter your dreams and extinguish your spark.

Their tactics are highly effective.
They crush a great many each day.
And under their spell it is easy to dwell
On fiascoes and failures that end in dismay.

The heart and the mind are left heavy.
The last speck of will is erased.
And nothing stays on when these villains are gone
but a mouthful of bile with the bitterest taste.

Alas! You must conquer the scoundrels!
Elude, dodge, and keep them at bay!
To feel fear slink in, boring under your skin,
is a sign that his brothers are well on their way.

So reach for your weapons against them!
Take hope and hard work in each hand!
Strap faith on your hips and a prayer on your lips
and show those debasers how firmly you stand!

Discouragement, fear and depression;
the truth should be known of these cads.
They’re empty and weak; it is your strength they seek.
Deny them and life is your wish in the bag. ”

 
— Richelle E. Goodrich

Give

“The sun rose and said to me, 'Be a ray of sunshine for someone today.'
The wind nudged at my back and said to me, 'Blow a kiss to someone today.'
The rain wet my cheek and said to me, 'Dry a tear on a somber face today.'
The soil fed grass at my feet and said to me, 'Add pleasure to a life today.'
The ocean washed ashore and said to me, 'Calm the tempest of a troubled soul today.'
The mountain trembled and said to me, 'Soften a heart of stone today.'
The moon lit the night and said to me, 'Show the way with your simple giving.'

So I went and did as they bid me do.

And the sun shone brightly on me.
And the wind caressed my face.
And the rain washed away my stains.
And the soil made a rose garden along my path.
And the ocean carried me from shore to shore.
And the mountain sheltered me from storms.
And the moon smiled down on me.

I've come to realize I can never give enough to recompense what I get in return.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich

This is Life

Learning to love through loss. Seeking warm pockets in the bitter cold. Finding the worth of a smile on a cloudy day. Carrying the weight of the world on weary shoulders—mistakes, sins, injustices—added upon daily. Enduring burdens that spur greater strength.

This is life.
Sorting through layers of expressions staring you straight in the eye. A battle to be right when wrong, to be good when bad, to be content when in need, and to laugh when tearing up.

This is life.
Valuing things of no worth. Reevaluating dreams. Laboring ceaselessly against the current. Seeing less, wanting more, having enough.

This is life.
Chasing the moon when the sun would extend its warmth. Slapping the hand that would offer a gentle caress. Cowering at personal, monstrous shadows. Giving and taking in unbalanced weights. Diminishing the majesty of mountains in order to form our own lowly hills. Hoping for more than we deserve.

This is life.
Hurting. Despairing. Losing. Weeping. Suffering. Laboring. Sinking. Mourning. Appreciating with greater capacity and sincerity a learned knowledge that these adversities do have their opposites.

This is life.
A taste. A revelation. A banishment. A mercy. A test. An experience. A turbulent sea-voyage that shall assuredly reach the unseen shore, making seasoned sailors of us all.

This is life.

"You were born and with you endless possibilities, very few ever to be realized. It's okay. Life was never about what you could do, but what you would do. "

— Richelle E. Goodrich

"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."

— George Bernard Shaw

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."

— Oscar Wilde

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."

— Albert Einstein

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on."

— Robert Frost

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

— Dr. Seuss

"So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be."

— Stephen Chbosky

"You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough."

— Mae West

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

— Allen Saunders

“Life is a test. It was designed to be so. It is where we taste the bitter and the sweet; where we feel pain and pleasure; where we learn right from wrong; where we pass through both darkness and light. It is a time to make choices. And through this process we form our characters—some grand and glorious, some barely decent, and others just plain monstrous.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich

Today―A Poem

Does this ever happen to you? 

You're in the bathroom getting ready for the day when a poem starts chanting in your head and you have to grab a pen to write it down because it just keeps repeating itself? Yeah―thought so. These words wouldn't leave me alone this morning; I thought I'd share them...


TODAY

"Today is the day that good things come your way and then bad things to suck all the fun from your play.

Today is the day that you stub every toe, blow your nose on a sleeve thinking no one will know.

Today is the day the sun bursts from the clouds and then sunbeams rain down as you smile and sing loud.

Today is the day that you meet someone new. You'll tickle his fancy―he'll tickle yours too.

Today you spend beaming, you'll sigh with a frown. You'll buoy up all happy and cry when let down.

Today is the day you will figure things out, 'cause today is called life and that's what life's about.”

― Richelle E. Goodrich