April 3, 2020: Phoebe

Phoebe

I feel your fragile openness is something like a flower,

Shining within life’s brokenness in a stillness that’s full of power . . .

You do like to keep in control, and handle things case by case,

Very careful to keep in your role, but exuding compassion and grace.

I can see you have built up a wall, and look out with strategic mind.

I fear you, but then, when I give you a call, you’re almost always kind.

Somehow, I still don’t comprehend what brings you to where you are.

I feel you’ve been torn and are trying to mend.

If I’m digging too deep, I don’t mean to offend.

I know it’s hard, but you’re willing to be my friend.

We can go play some pool in a bar!

You’re more often than not rather indirect in the things that you ask or express;

Complaints, exhaustion are circumspect ways of saying you’re in distress.

Sometimes, you’re strong and daring, and your freedom seems almost sublime;

An open person who’s open to sharing, but then you’ll say you don’t have the time!

And I want to open you up.  I want to put you at ease,

But while trying to win your trust, you almost always freeze.

Somehow, I still don’t comprehend what brings you to where you are.

I feel you’ve been torn and are trying to mend.

If I’m digging too deep, I don’t mean to offend.

I know it’s hard, but you’re willing to be my friend,

But you’re afraid I might take you too far.

My sense is that you’ve been shattered in the effort to get close to men,

And you want to find what matters, and not be entangled again.

Though you know I would treat you well, and I would work towards understanding,

Still, you don’t want to crawl back into a shell of what might seem too demanding.

So you follow the paths of your duty, and you try to be loving but light.

When you look at life in its beauty, you’re strong and you feel alright.

Somehow, I still don’t comprehend what brings you to where you are.

I feel you’ve been torn and are trying to mend.

If I’m digging too deep, I don’t mean to offend.

I know it’s hard, but you’re willing to be my friend,

Despite the bruises beneath the scars.

Your love is warm and soothing like an evening summer breeze.

You touch me but you keep on moving, but you’re not just trying to tease.

You give what it is you have to give.  You’re not afraid to take a stand.

But the approach-avoidance in how you live makes it hard for me to lend you a hand.

I feel your fragile openness Is something like a flower,

Shining within life’s brokenness which has made a place for your power.

Somehow, I still don’t comprehend what brings you to where you are.

I feel you’ve been torn and are trying to mend.

If I’m digging too deep, I don’t mean to offend.

I know it’s hard, but you’re willing to be my friend,

I see you shine like a star!