Evelyn Klebert

Cornerstone Book Sale :-)

admin — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 14:16:36 +0000

Cornerstone Book Publishers is having a 30% off all print books sale. Visit: www.cornerstonepublishers.com
between now and Sunday, August 22nd and get 30% off any purchase. Just go
to our website, select the books you would like to order and send us an
e-mail at info@cornerstonepublishers.com with the books you want. We will
total your order and send you a PayPal invoice with your discount.
Check our new titles and the titles you have been meaning to order. Act
now!

Maybe You Shouldn’t

admin — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 13:46:33 +0000

Maybe you shouldn’t say it
if you aren’t exactly sure.
Words travel like arrows
and if unkind seek out their targets directly.
Maybe you shouldn’t say it
if it’s not proper to say to their face.
If you can’t imagine them in front of you
and you speaking as clearly and with as much fortitude
as you would behind their back.
Maybe you shouldn’t say it
if you couldn’t imagine saying it to your own child.
Everyone is someone’s child
and a parent’s pain is a formidable thing.
Maybe you shouldn’t say it
if you don’t want it to label you,
because somewhere whispers become shouts
and they always travel into the light of day.
Maybe you shouldn’t say it
if you don’t want it clinging to you forever
because even if you change and think better of it
someone will always remember the hurt
and see you right next to it.

A Calmer Shore

admin — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 02:07:31 +0000

The sun is setting
and the day is ending
and I set my craft toward land,
pointing directly to another place,
a calmer shore
just within my sight.
I let the nonessentials drop away,
lighten the ship for its destination.
No room for petty grievances anymore,
no space for past hurts
or unfulfilled yearnings.
I’ll let it drop away
only taking with me
what’s important now,
what was ever important.
My joys,
memories of love,
of kindnesses,
of peace and happiness.
The rest floats away, dissipates,
and I can’t help wonder now
why I ever spent any time on it at all.
Now in the stillness
it’s very clear,
as I point my craft toward a calmer shore.

Dancing

admin — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 19:03:59 +0000

Dancing

We dance around each other,
spinning around the floor
in wild, inexplicable contortions.
Sometimes I’m sure I’ve taken the lead,
and he shadows my footsteps
by miles away.
And then for a bit my guard drops,
and temporarily I settle into complacency.
Until I turn around a rambling corner,
and there he stands,
waiting, biding his time
with a wide delicious grin.
Taking different forms, using different tools,
but always the same in essence,
waiting quite assured.
And why wouldn’t he be,
haven’t we traveled down this road before?
And I contemplate again,
take in his cool arrogance,
contemplate again
dancing that wild uncharted dance,
spinning out all my energies
until all that is left is a nervous shell.
I contemplate for a moment,
and then begin to wonder,
if this time I change the tune
and instead
I lie in wait,
round that unexpected turn,
and greet my fear with a warm embrace.

The Mighty Mississippi

admin — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 23:12:50 +0000

“The Mississippi River will always have its own way; no engineering skill can persuade it to do otherwise…”

– Mark Twain

Gardens

admin — Mon, 31 May 2010 01:26:03 +0000

I wander through gardens,
through mazes in the shadows,
thorns prick at my skin
scraping and tearing.
I wander through places of overgrown tangles.
And see glimpses and catch fragments of other lives
and other paths.
I wander through gardens
and only catch a brief semblance
of others lives, hopes,
and pains that wrap around like wild vines.
Of course I couldn’t hope to know and really understand
but in the passing of an instance
I feel its semblance,
and think I hear another heartbeat
as they wind round their own
path,
and footsteps wrap round their own
wild vines.

Truth

admin — Thu, 20 May 2010 02:55:59 +0000

My truth whispers
while the crowd roars by; it quietly bends
and turns
yet remains strong in its essence.
My truth reminds me
of a beacon through the shadows
of the shining light
guiding me through the lost days.
Our truth reminds me of how
far we have traveled,
of how much we have overcome
against predictions and preoccupations.
Our strength is my truth,
our connection the chord
that binds me
yet is my armor.
You are my constant
while the rest fades away with a sinking sun,
you are my constant.

The Greatest Wish

admin — Sun, 09 May 2010 17:01:59 +0000

It’s hard to explain it
to someone who doesn’t know
who hasn’t walked a step in these particular shoes.
One moment you are the center of your life,
and in the next the universe shifts a bit
and someone else changes the gravity.
Someone who needs you completely,
for survival, for affection,
for all the essentials that make us human.
And then minute by minute they grow,
get stronger and more independent,
more separate,
someone who was literally
physically closer to you once
than anyone else could ever be.
But it is your greatest wish
and fiercest desire that they become strong enough
one day to go out and chase their own happiness.
It’s hard to explain it
to someone who doesn’t understand.
To give all that time and attention
so that another can forge their own life.
It’s hard to explain why
it’s the greatest joy to see it happen,
watching that child stretch its wings
and begin to carve its own place
in the world.

A Glimmer

admin — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 23:48:31 +0000

I caught sight of something today,
just a glimmer,
just a shimmer,
passing through light,
through reflection,
perhaps just memory –
the girl I used to be.
Her aura was electric,
electric with confusion,
vibrant with energy,
energy folding in upon itself.
Eyes flashing,
soul rebellious,
angry with sparks of determination,
weak with lack of direction.
I saw a flash today,
a glimmer of what I used to be
a tornado of activity,
so sure, so lost.
Surely a turbulent time,
but thankfully one that is no more.

Dusty Shoes

admin — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 01:43:58 +0000

Dusty shoes on a well-worn path,

Time to take them off

And shake them out.

I breathe in deep,

The floral air,

Fading fragrances from a past dimly remembered.

I’m at that half-way point

Or maybe a little beyond.

Time to pause, take stock, one last look at the fading landscape,

Like parting glances from an old friend,

And then eyes pointed forward

Just toward the horizon,

Toward the rest of the journey.