a soothing fusion

late-summer morning 

insects with tinnitus sing

a soothing fusion

~csr

where are my words?

some sleeping

some slumber

while others they travel

some roaming

some searching

while others they swim

some swirl

some eddy

while circling downward

some laughing

some joking

they cackle they jest

some steeping

some brewing

they darken with flavor

where are my words?

~csr

another duration

another duration…

   gray and withering.

where once passion’s insolence sprang!

   so late in season! ...

      if only to crave.

another turning…

   over again inside.

where now dense roots

  mingled throughout sinew and bone

    inflict me once more.

unaccompanied…

   conjuring fragrant fanatical flowers!

    irrational bouquets!

     in rumination.

see..

   how they sway in ardent breezes...

   how they dance to rhythms of raindrops... ... ...

   another duration.

~csr

all that is now.

i want…

   looking back.

though

   this steals…

       all that is now.  

~csr

firstly of yourself

may you work through things swiftly but more importantly, wholly and completely.  

 to me... It seems like it must all be sifted and weighed somehow before i can move past it... 

we are however armed with an armor that has been cast in years and forged in fires of heartache.  

we know this pain and therefore we know empathy.  

a gift not all possess

i will meet you in the place paved in pessimisms under foot... And lit by the candles of optimisms overhead... 

 be well

be forgiving firstly of yourself

~csr

finding my might

arduous not cozy

winding not straight

changing not stable

an altering state

tough and not soothing

twisting not clear

metamorphic life-changing

zigzagging through fear

enduring the darkness,

resisting the light

embracing my weakness

and finding my might

~csr

flourishing

embracing 

  present moment, 

clarity stillness. 

facing obstinacy, 

  breathe, 

   pause, 

    listen. 

     seeking understanding, 

     a river flowing 

   around a rock. 

empathy  

   compassion, 

    creating 

harmonious exchange. 

word’s gentle breeze, 

  soft

non-confrontational. 

focus 

   issues, 

  not persons, 

   a gardener tending soil, 

  not leaf. 

dance of dialogue, 

  flexibility 

grace. 

embracing paradox 

  differing views, 

   humility 

    openness, 

     learning, 

  a student 

of the universe. 

conversations

  peaceful forest, 

   understanding

    growth 

flourishing.

~csr

being

stillness

 calm surface, 

reflecting 

 present

   without 

   distortion 

    reaction, 

revealing 

   beauty

'not being' in turmoil,

, 'not being' controlled,

, 'not being' defined 

inner peace, 

   liberation, 

    harmony 

arisen

 embracing 

simplicity

  being.

~csr

in the darkness

i feel like a crushed seed, 

   buried dark, deep in the Earth. 

    dry, hard, crusted over. 

yet

   down beneath, 

     there's a tiny spark of life 

      in my core. 

so i am pushing, 

   i’m trying. 

i’m trying to force life 

   to burst the shell and reach up, 

    out of the earth, to reach the air, 

     the sun, the sky, 

       the stars.

there’s more space in this universe 

   than substance, 

at least that we can see. 

and so… if 

   you're near some of that substance, 

    touch it, hold it, embrace it. 

Because it's just a flash of light Iin the darkness.

~csr

fragile way.

beauty lies beyond capture,

though we chase moments, freezing frames.

a brush can interpret, but not replace.

descriptions fall short, unable to evoke.

subjectivity filtered,

by experience and bias.

yet, with this interpretation, there is a beauty.

for in the brushstrokes, words, and frames,

an interpretation remains.

not ‘the truth’, yet a truth in its own,

fragile way.

~csr

To Improve

when we compromise

our character

in order to advance

an aspect of our lives,

we inadvertently

misplace

who we are,

ultimately losing

that which we sought

to improve.

~csr

what if

what if our brokenness

was not something to be feared

or hidden,

but rather

something to be acknowledged

and transformed?

what if,

instead of reinforcing the cracks

and fissures that divide us,

we chose to sit

together in silence

and appreciate

the beauty in our imperfections?

what if,

in embracing our own vulnerability,

we discovered a new way of living

in harmony with ourselves,

each other,

and the planet?

what if?

~csr

fragile threads

The thread of tradition, culture, and heritage that is passed down through generations is indeed fragile. It can be easily broken, lost, or forgotten, leaving behind only whispers of the past. And yet, despite its fragility, this thread is incredibly resilient. It can be woven from the simplest of elements: a story told around a campfire, a recipe passed down, a traditional song sung in a forgotten language.

These threads are carried within us, in our bones, in the stories we tell ourselves, and in the traditions we practice. They connect us to our ancestors, to our communities, and to our shared human experience.

May we cherish and honor this fragile thread, and may we continue to weave it with care, compassion, and respect for those who have come before us. Additionally, we must cherish the fragile threads of others as well. Wherever this thread is being severed, we must rise to protect it, recognizing the inherent value and dignity of every culture, tradition, and community.

By doing so, we can help create a world where diversity is celebrated, and the rich tapestry of human culture is preserved for future generations.

Emerging into Sight

Trapped in a battle that's invisible to everyone else, a war rages beneath the surface, hidden from prying eyes. All others can see is the mask I wear, the projection of confidence and calm. They hear the tone and voice, but they can't hear the screams of self-doubt and fear that echo through my mind.

I've struggled to find my place in the world, feeling like I'm living in the shadows, unseen and unheard. The weight of this struggle is crushing at times, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. It's a gnawing sense of inadequacy that threatens to consume me whole.

Fighting back, I'm slowly, painfully emerging into sight, learning to see myself, hear my own voice, and feel my own emotions. It's a terrifying and liberating experience all at once.

Looking deeper, I realize that I've been held hostage by the opinions of others, seeking validation, recognition, and appreciation. But this desire has made me susceptible to the whims of others. When I'm praised, I'm elevated; when I'm criticized, I'm crushed.

This is a false narrative. My worth and value come from within. I'm learning to disconnect from external validation and find my own sense of purpose and self-worth.

As I share these thoughts and feelings, I'm aware that I may be seeking validation from others. I may be hoping for reassurance, empathy, or praise. But I'm trying to approach this sharing with authenticity and vulnerability, rather than with the expectation of receiving validation.

Perhaps that's the greatest challenge of all – to share our true selves without attachment to how others may respond. To emerge into sight, not for the validation of others, but for the sake of our own freedom and growth.

“In Plain Sight” will probably be the next expression in this series, however, this emergence into sight may not require a written testament at all. Perhaps the greatest indicator of growth is not in the writing, but in the forgetting – forgetting the struggle, forgetting the doubt, and forgetting the need for external validation. In this sense, In Plain Sight may not be a destination, but a state of being – one that is lived, not written.

Unseen

As I sit here, just moments after receiving the news that I've been ruled out for the position, I'm met with a mix of emotions. This was my one and only in-person interview in a year filled with countless returned resumes.

I've spent a lifetime trying to do the right thing, to care for others, to be considerate, and to give people what they need. But in doing so, I've come to realize that I don't fit in – precisely because I care.

I'm a creative soul, with a passion for poetry and music. I see patterns and connections where others may not. I ask questions, not just to seek answers, but to uncover better questions. And yet, despite my talents and abilities, I find myself feeling broken, like a puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit.

I'm 57 years old, and I'm tired of trying to force myself into spaces where I don't belong. I'm tired of being treated like a commodity, a means to an end, rather than a human being with thoughts, feelings, and desires. I'm tired of being expected to conform to a world that values productivity and efficiency above all else.

As I look around, I see people who seem to be getting ahead, who seem to be succeeding in this crazy game we call life. But they're not like me – they're the ones who plow through, who push aside obstacles, who prioritize their own needs above all else. And I'm left wondering, where do I fit in?

I know I'm not alone in this feeling. There are countless others out there who, like me, are searching for a sense of purpose, of meaning, of connection. We're the ones who care, who feel deeply, who see the world in all its complexity. And we're the ones who are often overlooked, undervalued, and marginalized.

But I refuse to give up. I refuse to lose sight of my own worth, my own value, my own unique perspective. I'll keep creating, keep writing, keep singing. I'll keep being me, no matter how broken, no matter how flawed.

Because in the end, it's not about fitting in or conforming to someone else's standards. It's about embracing our own uniqueness, our own humanity. It's about finding the courage to be ourselves, even when the world around us seems to be pushing us in the opposite direction.

senses diminish

constant bombardment

malignant normality

senses diminish

 

~csr

abundant with hope

an end...

  a beginning

    lacking optimism.

a beginning...

  an end

    abundant with hope.

~csr

somehow (for Sharon)

somehow...

i knew and my heart sank

i did not permit hope,  

so i would be prepared,

equipped to prop her up when the words

would sweep her legs out  from under her.

and still somehow...

i was not equipped.

somehow...

we looked into their eyes, we smiled, we  held it back.

we hid it for now

and somehow...

they seemed not to know.

somehow...

we gathered them and our ourselves,

onto the floor and we spoke the news

unthinkable words impossible to speak.

somehow...

we spoke just the same.

somehow...

he opened up, he poured out, melted in her arms

and it flowed on and on

as we sat still and silent

and listened to it all.

and somehow...

somehow...

he said it all.

somehow...

i see her in their eyes.

i hear her in their voices, in their laughter, in their stories.

somehow...

she is there.

somehow...

~csr

Barb Vanaman

Sharon Parsons-Bortleʼs life came to a tragic end just as she was starting a new

life for herself and her children. Sharon always strived to have a positive

outlook on life and provide the best surrounding for her family. Regarless of the

life that surrounded her, Sharon always strived to do good in the community,

her job and especially with the ones she loved.

Born and raised in VIneland, Sharon used her degree in elementary education

to nurture and care for the children in the Vineland school system all of her

professional career. She touched many childrenʼs lives and made a difference in

more families that we will ever know.

Sharon’s Story

in orbit

we all have emptiness

and it wants...

mostly what we don't have...

destroying what we do.

even so

if we can perhaps

place it in the center...

if we can learn

to balance it in the middle...

     like an axis...

it's gravity can hold

   the rest of our being

   around it

        in orbit


~csr

A supermassive black hole is the largest type of black hole in a galaxy, on the order of hundreds of thousands to billions of solar masses. Most, and possibly all galaxies, including the Milky Way,^[2] are believed to contain supermassive black holes at their centers.^[3][4]
Supermassive black holes have properties which distinguish them from lower-mass classifications:

• The average density of a supermassive black hole (defined as the mass of the black hole divided by the volume within its Schwarzschild radius) can be as low as the density of water for very large mass black holes. This is because the Schwarzschild radius is directly proportional to mass, while density is inversely proportional to the volume. Since the volume of a spherical object (such as the event horizon of a non-rotating black hole) is directly proportional to the cube of the radius, and mass merely increases linearly, the volume increases by a much greater factor than the mass as a black hole grows. Thus, average density decreases for increasingly larger radii of black holes (due to volume increasing much faster than mass).
• The tidal forces in the vicinity of the event horizon are significantly weaker. Since the central singularity is so far away from the horizon, a hypothetical astronaut traveling towards the black hole center would not experience significant tidal force until very deep into the black hole.

audacity

who among us

   possessing hopefulness,

can ever be free of

   audacity?

~csr