The waters were rising, each shallow breath hurt A pain of her making, no way to divert Her mind like a tapestry coming undone When the enemy came, she’d nowhere to run

The tidal wave washed out the girl from before Leaving a broken one, haunted by war A thousand calls went out, ‘please help me,’ she cried So they gave her some medals and claimed they had tried

But the wildfires were coming, they wanted her blood Too bad she was drowning in her own mind’s flash flood Her memories shackled her under the waves While water and flames carved out future graves

Once sharp as a needle, now terribly dull Her brain, once quite witty, now only half-full The visions of past lives bombarded her peace She held on too long, never could quite release

She was sinking in quicksand when he came to save her A detective of good faith, sentry’s connoisseur He showed her the path she’d never have found A way to escape all the evil abound

She started to see grace when he lit up the way His beacon of light shone day after day She borrowed his life vest til she’d made up her own He made sure she knew she was never alone

She couldn’t have made it without his great love Sin City’s own angel sent straight from above A window to freedom, a mind without strife His guidance allowed her to take back her life

You never quite know when you’re all that exists Between Death’s sharp scalpel and somebody’s wrists She’ll thank him forever he chose to intrude To bless and imbue her with his own fortitude

A life he has saved, a mind he has freed Once failing and broken, now poised to succeed She’s indebted forever, no thanks would suffice Because of his guidance, she’ll now get to rise

I had a dream the other night, I woke up in a cold sweat A golden, noble eagle - freedom’s epithet - Flew free and proud above us all, we thanked her from below But then a dark cloud covered her completely in shadow

I blinked and all around me changed, a stadium filled with us People from all walks of life, at least a billion plus Some were wearing red, and some were wearing blue But all of us were fighting, the others to subdue

And while we fought and tried to kill, that eagle sat alone On an altar in the middle, one built of man-made stone Her wings were tucked in to her side, but not by want or choice She tried to caw and ask for help, but no one heard her voice

The pain she felt was hot and sharp, like metal in a fire Because her glorious wings were bound in black barbed-wire And while we fought each other, each believing we were right We were only hurting freedom more, restricting its free flight

I’ve learned that no one man, president or not, Has the power to save or ruin, that power can’t be bought We have the power to unify, and the power to divide Our daily actions are what counts, each choice that we decide

Before we name our enemies, by the colors that we wear Let’s first decide to love and help, to compromise and to care We’re the ones who live each day with friends and strangers too Why hate someone when you can love, to hate only hurts you

I have always had this thought, a belief I try to spread That we are all more shades of purple, than shades of blue or red The things we have in common, beliefs and wants and needs Are so much more than differences; and similarities should precede

Can we all agree to spread more love, to help those needing more Regardless of their party choice, or which color they prefer We’re all in this together: green, grey, blue, purple, red Don’t let one person split us up, choose unity instead

We’re all just doing what we can to prosper and survive No one wants this ship to sink, we all want it to thrive So recognize your neighbor is just trying to get by Don’t cut their wings on principle, instead help them to fly

I’ve watched from afar, admired your ways, Known with a certainty, stuck in a craze On paper it’s perfect, our lives intertwine Two spirits, one soul: a predestined design Both athletic nerds, intelligent things Obsessed with a story, entranced by some rings A pet you can catch, a ball to be kicked The cobalt and claret, a yellow mouse picked But it’s more than our hobbies, our linked families It’s more than our shared, undesired disease Your brain thinks like mine, your wit sharpens too My conclusions and verdicts deduce like yours do You know what it’s like to feel trapped in your mind A slave to your body, a visionary left blind Your compassion a weapon wielded never by you Responsibility for all, and for all not a clue A groomsman forever and never a bride Unaided but destined to always provide Alive with a knowledge no others can grasp Mundane to their cores, no wisdom to clasp We want the same things, our goals all align Though we differ in how we divine the Divine But I think we’d be great, and I know you’d find love What’s more, though, a partnership we’d both be proud of Raising together the ones all alone Giving them more than their past broken home Changing together through eons of time Making each second superbly sublime A love tale for ages, the greatest of all The stuff saved for legends only starved men recall Too bad I’m a coward, too scared I will bleed I won’t ever work up the courage I need To tell you my feelings, to ask for a chance If bravery’s a ballroom, I don’t know the dance Our potential’s a grand yacht that’s just left to drift Sinking slowly beneath the deadweight of what-ifs I wish I could show you how great we would be But what could have been us, will only ever be me

To the five boys who make every second of my life worth living. I love you.

CT4 When you were little I’d say, with a smirk and a grin, ‘all the girls are sure going to love you!’ You’d smile so wide and with the cutest of lisps, say “cause my eyes are so big and so blue!” You’re older now but your eyes are the same, though they’ve already seen far too much. You watched as your mama nearly bled out, tried to heal her with your angelic touch.

And your big, blue eyes cried for your mother that night, though your own body was broken and sore. You begged her to live while they flew you away, and you were barely a month more than four. You laid in her arms while she lay unaware, it was the only place we could get you to sleep. And every time we went home you screamed and you wailed and I could only stand there and weep.

You were your mama’s best friend and her little sidekick, and your big eyes only knew joy Now there’s sorrow and hurt mixed in with the smiles and I just miss that pure little boy. But even through the tears and the heartache and hurt, your blue eyes still light up a room. Wherever you go, a smile’s never far, you’re the lighthouse defeating the gloom.

The accident stole her mind and her age, now your nine years are older than her, Though your smile’s still wide and your eyes are still bright, now you also are much more mature. You cheer your mom on, as if she was the kid, you are patient and loving and kind. You read her your books, or sing her your songs, and you help her escape her own mind.

KC3 You were always my buddy from your very first day, what can I say? You were really just cool. Had the deepest of voices and the fattest of cheeks, loved Cars and blue hedgehogs and school. Your humor made us cry from laughing so hard, even at the small, tender age of three. Now your humor’s unchanged, you still crack up the room, it’s just less frequent than I want it to be.

My very favorite picture from that time in our lives, was the first time you saw your hurt mom. Her eyes were open but blank, tubes and wires everywhere, but your little heart kept you so calm. You approached by her side, put your hand on her arm, and told her everything that was new. And for only a moment, as the camera clicked shut, her blank eyes somehow focused on you.

Her lips quirked up too, there but gone fast, then her face returned back to that nothing. She’d remain in a coma for seven more weeks, through the winter then part of the spring. But that picture remains, to remind us of how, even in a deep catatonic state, You’re still the best laugh, your humor transcends every hurt to alleviate.

And you’re still my best bud, now eleven and big, and you can always make me laugh hard, You’re a trash talking legend, and the very best Thor, your Mom’s protector and best bodyguard. Your heart is real gold, and your hugs are a balm, but your words are what save me each day. You’re hilarious and kind, you love and love hard, healing the world in your own unique way.

KC2 You’ve heard this a ton, cause it’s only so true, but you put us through hell and a half, You were the WORST baby boy, you screamed all night long, terrorized even the hospital staff. We cried all the time when you cried even more, your poor mom didn’t sleep for a year. But then one day you just changed, became the BEST little kid, now you’re everything good, kind, and dear.

The second oldest of five, you were always like me, you love learning and soccer and books. But unlike me you are nice and you love to help out, and you definitely got all the good looks. You were eight in the crash, newly baptized and meek, cared for your brothers and even your dad, You were hurting the same, but you helped out instead, with a concussion and bruising to add.

Now you’re nearly 13, a teenaged boy through and through, but still helpful and caring and good. The best of examples to your brothers and mom, you’ve done the best that you possibly could. You’re getting so old and so big and so wise, a paragon of a nice, kind young man, I hope you never grow out of helping all whom you meet, I hope that love always remains your first plan.

You’ve changed through and through from that baby from Hell, you’re angelic and all Heaven-sent, Your mom is lucky to have you as her cheerleader and help, but she’s more blessed to call you her friend. I couldn’t do this life without your help and your heart, though sometimes I forget to say Thanks. But please know you’re the best of the best kind of man, at the tip-top of all of the ranks.

KC5 To my mini K Cole, you sweet, perfect child, how your spirit has healed our hurt hearts. You were safe in the womb til the crash broke your mom, then they lost you as the Helo departed. But you lived, ‘gainst all odds, and excelled from the start, in the NICU for only five days. Then you were placed in the arms of your Mom’s loving Mom, in the midst of her deep grieving haze.

My Mom and my Dad were the best mom and dad, but by the time you were placed in their hands, They were old and retired, having raised their five kids, new babies were not in their plans. Yet they hadn’t a choice, your perfect Mom was asleep, and would never again be the same, So your Grandparents moved in and you moved in with them, became their babe in all but in name.

It’s been four years since and now I live with you, your grandparents live two hours away, But you still ask for them when you wake up at night, and we FaceTime them every day. You’re the boss of us all (you remind us each day), you are cunning and smart as a whip, Can count to a thousand by ones, twos, and threes; recite times tables with nary a slip.

I am sure that I’ll never express well enough, the impact you’ve had on my soul, You were the greatest of joys in a sea of black grief, the ember in a world of charcoal. You only get better at sparking great love, your spirit has only spread light, You are the sun in the sky, and the star of our lives, the antitode to every blight.

CC1 I left you for last because this is the hardest to write, I don’t even know where to start, You were the first on both sides, you made me an aunt, the first one to steal my whole heart. You had the cutest buck teeth and your eyes were so bright, and your laugh - how it lit up a room, Everything was funny, except cleaning and bees, and you still run from hornets and brooms!

You were happy and glad and carefree and so loved, now you’re loved but that’s all from that list. You took the brunt of the crash in your heart and your mind, bore the world in your tiny clenched fist. I wish I could give you back what you lost, I wish I could set your world right. You had the best of all moms, she was your biggest of fans, then it all changed on that fateful fall night.

You went from great joy to great grief in an hour, in that ambulance, your future began. Your childhood was over when you watched her heart stop, that night turned you into a man. You’re 14 years now, but your soul’s 58, though your humor is still probably 5 (😉), Your heart and your mind are still broken and sad, and your laughter is harder to find.

But C, you’re still good, you’ll always be good, that’s not something that ever will change, You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you love all you meet, spread kindness in the smallest exchange. I’m sorry for the way your life has turned out, but I know you will rise far above, You’re resilient and strong, you have the power within to cover the world with your love.

You five are the light in the darkest of nights, you each carry a beacon inside, You’ll leave me someday to go spread your wings, great comfort and love you’ll provide To the ones most in need, the ones trapped in dark, you’ll shine and you’ll help them shine too. Dear boys you’re my reason for living each day, my whole heart belongs to you.

I met you on one of the worst days of my life, But you didn’t know that yet. I pretended to be busy when you walked by my desk, So you wouldn’t see me upset.

But little did I know, you would soon save my soul, One eye roll and sigh at a time. When I needed a life vest, you jumped in instead, Pushed me up when I couldn’t climb.

I was drowning in grief with so many unknowns, Five kids hung in the in-between. You listened and smiled, gave advice, laughed and cried, A support beam on whom I could lean.

But the best parts of all were your wounds just like mine, Only yours were all stitched up and healed. So you helped me heal mine, body and mind, From shared days on the battlefield.

You taught me that love after war could exist, You taught me to love the new me. You showed me that scars are a privilege of life, Tattoos for the strong and the free.

Our time was too short, you soon moved out of state, Took my heart in the best possible way. Now you visit sometimes, but only in dreams, Which is what brought you to mind today.

I woke with a smile and your name on my lips, I hope you are doing well. I miss your sweet wit, your hugs and your words, I’ve missed you more than I can tell.

But sometimes happy endings are just what they say: Happy but also the end, So farewell to you now, almost lover indeed, But always, forever, my friend.

My screams rent the night, curdling the air My bellows shift the moon, my moans are a prayer My pillowcase is stained from the blacks of my eyes My bookshelves are filled with failed plans I’ve devised

My fingers are dyed red from the blood of my pens My soul’s painted black from too few amens My bones are alight with the promise of more My skin crawls with hope stashed atop Life’s trap door

My tongue narrates silk oaths and gossamer vows My heart weeps for flames of friends I’ve already doused My watch ticks the time since No Return’s line was crossed My compassion’s been buried ‘neath the devil’s own frost

My whispers strike deep like the thundering sky My holy lips purse as my hands justify My wrists clank together, my feet shuffle on My wings bear me forth to die at the dawn

My dreams divulge dreams that one day I’ll live out My toes curl in warning, my teeth furnish doubt My mind just keeps swimming, though Lake Wisdom’s dried up My thoughts are osmotic, pouring over Death’s cup

My joints creak and crack like the bones of this house My nose learns of Traitor’s own treacherous spouse My back holds the knife that you forgot you could keep My body surrenders gladly to permanent sleep

I can never stop the what if’s, The maybes, or the who knows - His escapisms and justifications, All his not-today-but-maybe-tomorrows.

I don’t know if I will ever be okay I don’t know if he’ll ever truly be gone I want to forget him, I want to kiss him — An apt but much-loathed paragon.

Why can’t he ever just leave me alone? Why does he text me every few weeks? Does it bring him great pleasure to laugh at my pain To crush me just as my interest piques?

Is heartbreak an event or a cycling round? Are you supposed to move on or repeat each demise? Cause what if instead of loving to love, He loves it the most when there’s pain in my eyes?

Why can’t I seem to erase every trace, Every thought, every memory, every mistake? Why can’t I ask him to tell me goodbye? All I’m doing is causing my own heart to break.

Cause it’s him I hate most, when I can’t hate at all. It’s him I love even in heartbreak’s tight grip. His love woke me up but his scorn damned me more. And I’m much too far in now to abandon this ship.

He smiles that smile he knows I love most, He says the right words and does the right things. He says sorry with kisses, and bribery too: Paid trips to Vegas, and sapphire rings.

But I know he’s still playing an old, boring game, The one where he wins and I constantly lose. He’ll win me back over then shove me back down, Force me to love him when I beg to refuse.

I frantically search for some saving grace, A friend who can pull me off this worn path, But no one is there, my friends have all gone They’ve left me to drown in this growing bloodbath.

They gave up on me a long time ago, Gave up when I couldn’t give up on him. Now they’ll watch as I take my very last breath, But it’s my own fault - I never learned how to swim.

What is it called — this thing I’ve become? Where I can’t quite break free, to my own great dismay? I know he will hurt me, I know how this ends, It’s a rerun of a rerun of a banal cliché.

Yet no matter how much I fight my own mind, No matter how much I beg me to run, Still always I watch as the train wrecks the scene, Where I’m ever the murdered and never the gun.

But what would it say if I finally gave up? If I killed hope instead of letting it burn? Would it make me a traitor, a fake, or a fraud? Would it get me a hypocrite’s brand in return?

And what kind of example would it make to the kids, If I hardened my heart and jaded my mind? Would their little souls care that I gave it my all? Or would they always think love and hurt intertwine?

How do I love him without loving him at all? How does a person live in that fire? If Garth thinks life’s best inside the flames, Then what must it be for the ones on the pyre?

It was always a joke, but everyone knows, the best jokes are rooted in truth. She would never stay put, she was too wanderlust, they mocked her even in youth.

She never stayed down, was precocious and bold, too stubborn ever to quit, The bullies, they tried, but eventually stopped, when she just couldn’t be bothered with it.

She played four different sports, captained six different teams, broke records and no shortage of bones, Learned to read at age three, was doing calculus by 12, blew through all of the standard milestones.

Her family was large, her support system great, her friends and her faith ground her too. But she was young and naive, impossibly so, nothing more than a green ingenue.

Her father would laugh and say someday she’d know, what the world outside Utah beheld, It would test her and try her and mostly just shock her, her education would be unparalleled.

At 15 her sports dreams went up in smoke when her knee ripped apart at the seams. She could walk and could run, but cutting was out, she said goodbye to all of her teams.

Then she got down to work, with plan B and plan C, but she’d really known this all along: That she wanted adventure, she wanted to learn, so she jumped into her decision headlong.

She met the next day with a Staff Sergeant at school, who wooed her to join the Air Force, Two short years later, she signed on the line, with excitement and no real remorse.

She said goodbye to her friends, her family all cried, but she was ready to be on her own, She was scared but excited, nervous but sure, she walked straight into the great, dark unknown.

She spent six long years traveling and learning anew, meeting people all around the world, Studying language and culture, politics and war, growing up from that small little girl.

She made friends who were family, she always loved hard, had her heart broke a few times at least, But she always bounced back, found a way to keep going, her education to always increase.

She learned a new language, and moved place to place, her wild spirit always wanting to roam, She thought she’d travel forever, fulfill all her dreams, …until an impetus brought her back home.

The world keeps on turning, no matter what, so we all know that life must go on. But every person experiences that one life event, that’s a world-halting phenomenon.

Her sister, beloved by all whom she knew, the pregnant mother of four little boys, Took a ride through a field, but didn’t come out, got distracted by some little noise.

The ambulance came, two helicopter too, and rushed them all to medical care, When her helicopter landed, the baby declined, so they cut him out while she was barely aware.

The baby, he lived, through no small feat at all, he’s now perfect and lovely and smart. Sweet to his core, the kid’s cunning and brave, with the ability to heal every heart.

The sister lived too, though she’s far from the same, a child living in an adult, She was holding her babes instead of her head, severe brain damage was the result.

So the girl moved back home, five kids to help raise, her wanderlust she put down on hold, Someday when the boys grow she’ll leave once again, with new adventures and journeys untold.

But ‘til then she’ll tell her stories, her lessons, her dreams, to the five boys who’ve stolen her heart, She’ll continue her learning, any way that she can, for knowledge will always impart.

The Star-Spangled Banner, a song we all know, In a country we love or hope to help grow.

The line near the end that expresses the wonder, At seeing our flag not ripped asunder,

But waving, still proud, over the battlements high, A symbol of hope in that bleak, morning sky.

It calls to my heart, my memories, my soul, My experience of war, and testaments told.

For once way back when, in my young adult days, Afghanistan was ruled by political malaise.

The war was ongoing, the soldiers still fought, For a land filled with peace, for girls to be taught,

For reform and for growth, for stability throughout, For safety from hatred, an inured redoubt.

We fought side by side in the country’s northeast, With the Afghan military and local police,

To rid them of hate-filled terrorist scum, To save men from what they’d unwillingly become.

On August the 6th, 2011, 38 souls were escorted to Heaven.

August the 8th in the late setting sun, We lined up in formation, one by one.

I stood at attention with two hundred others, As we bid a final farewell to our late, fallen brothers.

The night sky was dark, the moon never showed, But the wind of grief blew, to take what was owed.

Our anger it bore, our love it devoured We stood in a line and saluted for hours,

As casket after casket, all draped with our flag, Each bearing a name and a single dog tag,

Were loaded aboard two military planes, Two planes, not one, for so many remains,

Thirty-one of our country’s very best men, Husbands and fathers, brothers and friends.

We wept for their families, their loved ones back home, We wept for their Seal team, in that late evening gloam,

The toughest of men, the strongest of us all, Could not even stand, but neither did fall.

They were held up by others, their bodies too weak, Their grief-stricken minds overwhelmed their physique.

I have never again seen our flag the same way, Neither would you, and neither would they.

If on August the 6th, you’d sat by my side, Watching a Chinook and mountain collide,

38 bodies plus one loyal dog, Were pulled from the rubble in dim morning’s fog.

Struck by an unlucky shot in the dark, A sole RPG that just hit its mark.

The ‘Copter went down, and all aboard died, While we watched from above; shocked and horrified.

Because even though you’re at war, day in and day out, You can sometimes forget all the dangers about.

But eventually they catch up as they did me that day, When all I could do was to weep and to pray,

That someday the world would be rid of all hate, Purged of the evil, no vengeance to sate.

I will always stand up and fight what is wrong, To help those who can’t, to make the weak strong.

But I dream of a world that’s united at last, Where we can recognize beauty in the deepest contrast

Our differences to join us not tear us apart A world where our soldiers don’t have to depart.

Freedom’s not free, neither is it cheap, But what happens when the cost becomes much too steep?

When living with memories of violence and war, Have shaken us indelibly right to our core.

The year I was there, the price that was paid, Was much, much too high, a most unfair trade.

Too many were lost, too many fell, Too many never came back from that Hell.

It’s been twelve years now but the memories won’t fade, Of those 38 men and their sacrifice paid.

They fought for a better world for you and for me, They gave everything they had, and now are set free.

But we’ll all soldier on, every day, We’ll try to repair the world’s disarray .

We’ll make it our mission to spread only light, To tamp down the hate, the revenge, and the spite.

We’ll do it for them, for the lives that they gave, In this land that is free, because of the brave.

A smile for your witty joke, a ‘thank you’ for your praise, I can keep this sick act up, could fool you all for days.

My bathroom mirror barks a laugh, my dresser rolls its eyes. Because they know what you don’t know: my smile is my disguise.

I promised to come back someday, it’s a promise I regret. This place may be a Romeo but I’m no Juliette.

Utopia is not for me, ‘idyllic’ and I clash Once a golden phoenix, now I’ve been reduced to ash.

Will I rise or will I fall? It’s much too soon to tell. My mind’s a Pennywise circus, and I’m off the carousel.

If you knew me before war tore up my good ideals, That girl’s now buried six feet under a wound that never heals.

I thought war would be black and white, no room for any gray, But I was wrong, and now I know, war has no sobriquet.

Because no sane man or woman and certainly no child, Would say fighting ever gets you anything but reviled

I spent three full years training for that one year out at war, Where Death and I became close friends, both then and evermore.

And though I’m always grateful for the lessons learned that year, Those lessons came at a steep price: near constant, long-term fear.

I saw and heard and felt too much, I wish I could forget, Now my photographic memory is something I regret

The nightmares come each and every time my eyes give in to sleep, They’re not welcome, they’re not desired, and yet they’re mine to keep

But if you asked me this today, ‘Would you do it all again?’ I wouldn’t even hesitate, ‘Where do I sign? Give me a pen.’

‘Cayse the best I learned had nothing at all to do with fighting wars, Instead I learned what all humans are deep down inside our cores.

Every human’s born with an innate sense of right, They know deep down the difference between the dark and light.

No matter where you choose to go, all around the world, You’ll find amazing people, like an oyster to a pearl.

I found no less, and maybe more, in Afghanistan’s northeast, The people there were the brightest light in the darkest, blackest beast

They hadn’t much and what they had was taken more than not, By force, by price, by threats, or dice; by what the enemy sought

But their love was pure, their hearts were gold, their dreams ubiquitous, Not cold or callous, mean, or dark, and definitely not covetous.

They cared like me, and hoped the same, their compassion was all too real, They just found themselves in a Hellish maze, being always forced to kneel.

I wish I could have been more help, I wish it all the time, For they helped me know a world beyond my former paradigm.

So even with the nightmares, pain, and every cancer scare, I’d go back time and time again, to meet the people there.