For the ONE who fills my heart, my life....

Lattice of Lace
for my "A" always...
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
December 9th, 2006

Be kind, oh this lesson is not taught in elementary school, it is here
Filtering through each pore of my skin, smoothing away the tear drops
Clearing my blood shot eyes, holding me close in that human embrace
Where love is felt, sipped (like fine wine), and cherished forever, and
The great God who told me "you are good enough" filled me up, took
The deepest damage, and planted truth within my heart, this seed grows

Sweet buttercup of spring, one lone daffodil rests
Upon the brick, the light of afternoon is gentle pink
The sun goes down lower in this winter sky, east of
Here (home), and the dogs bark to "great" he who I love...

Time has accumulated like government files, and the smell of stale paper
Coffee stained edges, penned in lines, and years of concise evaluations
Ends today, the reason and thought is long gone, like that bad hurricane
The havoc, destruction, and death ended, and the oak tree stands strong
Growing new green leaves on powerful branches, and beneath I can sit
Garnering cool shade in the hot summer of the bayou, not restless, just me...

That big old wild rose bush blooms furiously; scarlet red petals
Fall beneath in the shade, and a fragrance emits deep into the fall
Where barren branches remain, awaiting a first frost, winter cold
Snow may come again, so the welcome mat gleams white, home...

The little girl loves you, with total abandon, she listens to each word you
Speak eager to learn, to find laughter deep in her heart, to touch your
Strong muscular hand in sleep (let you know she is there), and desires
Your touch in the dark morning hour when you whisper "the birds are.."
Singing, and deep in her soul the solo voice rises, like a hymn from the
Almighty, the true gift of love, unconditionally is within, without, with us...



Turn to me, those eyes are so deep, the shades of green and brown blend
Dark jet black hair, a face of character, grace, and a smile that lights up
Inside of me like our first Christmas tree, the doves of peace circle, alight
The wreath of pine, the red bow, the ribbons yet tied, and still I might ask
"What do I do" knowing your answer is final, right, and that the days we
Count are precious coins, passed from ancient Greeks in the Aegean sea

From your hand to mine, there are no interlopers
I am "till death do us part" and I will stay
Even if you make me cry, the tears are my truth
You cry too, and I won't let you go, can't let you go...

The enemy remains in the farthest field; they are hungry, days without food
The water ration is almost gone, and the skies beg rain, perhaps snow for
The temperatures are dropping, the youngest soldiers recall loving wives
Newborn children at the breast, a time when turkey dinner was too busy
A tear drops, they fight starvation, a tear falls, they forsake death
The white flag is buried deep beneath the packs, and the Colonel motions

The youngest soldier stands tall and says "yes sir"
Walks forth in a strong march, and bears the flag
Beyond the field the troops motion, "they give in"
Bellies full, warm blankets, relief from the night wind...

This battle ends today, the day is young, the tasks many, and tonight
When sleep wraps around me like a glove, my destination is marked
Clear, and your arms are around me holding me close, leading me back
Home (where my heart is), home (where I will always be), home
Is the first stop, and the last stop I will make, and this lattice fence
Beneath the garden, near the magnolia tree sparks my eyes, again...

This lattice is lace...
Oh I do love you, forever and a day...
I am here at the door, please
Yes the key fits, "I am home..."
I love you still, just now the right way...

I divorced you (2) times...

Terance Flight Watch
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
December 5th, 2006


The chains bind, sear, cut deep (no more), and the last bus
Leaves the terminal, the Christmas lights are out of place, that day
Passed weeks ago, and a child stares past you (don't I exist) as
He clasps his mother's hand, she is too busy to watch if she knew
That you are (I am) a diseased vehicle, a Mack Truck let loose on
This world to spread my virus, (venom) to all who come close
To this healed but needle-pricked arm, awaiting that
First fix, the prison walls smell familiar, and huddled
Back inside, there is one memory of a man like you
(Me) who made it back alive, his sentence just a last
Good bye to the system he owes "time served" and he'll be home
A wife, three sons, a life ahead--a job, they forgave him (not you)
The smell of exhaust fills nostrils used to prison smells, old meat
Served on starchy sauces tainted with bacteria, the punishment
Just to be (me) an addict who stole a DVD, a year served again
Smiling he lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, going West, home
She'll be there, maybe angry, remorseful, telling me
"How it works if you work it" and first I'll do a bump or two
She'll let me in, she can, her guilt has nothing to do
With me, but sure this is LOVE, she's my wife
Stubs the half lit cigarette out, climbs inside, front row seat
Props his head comfortably next to a grandmother going to
Austin to spend the New Year, smiles as he shows her a
Picture of (my son, and this is my wife) she smiles and says
"She's pretty son take good care of her" and I want to laugh
Tell her "no maam she'll be taking care of me" and later the
Sounds of rustling newspaper and cold air as the
Door swings open, passengers leave and exit and
New ones enter, five hours passed (already closer)
The last leg of the journey begins, his seat mate
Squeezes his hand and says "God bless you and listen to Him"
Slowly makes her way through the aisle too small to fit
Her girth, and the smell of home made cookies follows her
A tear falls from a place inside (I can't feel not now) and restless
He stands (I do), stretches (I will), paces (I can't), and sits
Back down on that hard worn seat, the snow falls, a winter storm...

The town is dark, air is bitter ice, the wind blows in from the
East and whips around corners, bites its victims, at 70 mph
The large bus sways and pulls into the South side Terminal
This ride takes almost (2) days but the rest served its purpose
Heading to the public toilet he washes, shaves, changes his
Shirt, pops change into the public phone "Hi Momma Bear I'm back"
She hangs up, does not give him a minute
Anger fills his face with red rage his own mother
A small voice says "how many times have you gone"
"It's not my fault God now don't go on me" and paces
The next call a disconnected number, being a junkie means no
Service, frequent changes, hell a phone is no loss a roof is and
That snarly fix is the only reason to BE HERE, after awhile and
The humming of the neon sign outside the door makes him
Frigid as he wraps his cheap prison jacket tight, and a man stops
Sees him, shakes his head and says "Luke, hey man what's up"
It's that guy from the program, he shakes his hand
"Just got out man what's going on" and to know this
Is it, his ticket, his ride across town, a way out of
This stinking terminal on the wrong side of Midland
The man knows and says "You need a ride, coffee first?"
He nods his head "that sounds good I'm light you catch me"
Big strong arms surround him, a bear hug, and he fights the
Heart that beats sober, and smiles "it's okay I been there too"
His truck is warm, they smoke in silence, and his eyes open
To view the sunrise clean, it is brilliant yellow, Denny's is there..
Two hours later, stomach full, calmer, less fear
"Can I drop you off I got to head to work?" and
He says "Yeh my wife should be home thanks"
The man opens his mouth to speak, then silence
That ride across town, wind stops, and the temperature rises
Snow lays on the sidewalks, waiting to melt in temperate noon
The apartments different, changed, but he points to the building
His friend waits knowing the result, and he runs up the stairs
Knocks, waits, and knocks again, smiling nervously at the truck
The couple shake their heads, they have lived there six months...

She senses the day different, surrounds herself with busy work
Cleaning the kitchen, taking the dogs out, one load of laundry
No urge to go to the bank, the grocery store, or down to
Baton Rouge later for her meeting, but she is chairing tonight
"No choice is there" and her legs grow strong, she is slowly
Forgetting the last year of torture, illness, despair, and
Drops to her knees again, to thank the Lord
For putting her back home, for giving her the
Forgiveness in a man she loves that she knew
She did not deserve, the grace of life, beauty abounds
"A new year 2007" she speaks to no one, and the older dog
Wags her tail, it is just a matter of time where her coppery
Beige fur will be no more, she has outlived her time, and
Serious fatal illness, but he would not let this child go, he
Loved her as unconditionally as he "loved me" she thought
"Good old girl good old Hidis" she speaks, and big Guy
Wants some love too, and she scratches is head
Remembering the day she lifted him from the sewer
Thinking he was old enough, his dam left him to live
Or die, and he came home, and stayed "unlike me"
The cell phone rings a West Texas number "who is it" and
She lets it go to voice mail, shaking her head, this is home
That life is gone, past, the death that was sucking her to the
Proverbial abyss "let go" and ended, she starts the car and
The warm day soothes her, for her eyes are clear, and her
Mind at peace, and later the phone rings again, the same call
"Hello" and it's a friend from the program a man
With twenty plus years, and her expression does
Not change and her words simple "I divorced him"
The man is kind, knows, but tells her in honesty
"He is seeking you anyhow he can stay with me" and relief
Is clear as she replies "be careful he is HIV positive, heroin"
He knows, she feels foolish but also knows to protect those
Who love her, who make the effort to give back what they
Are freely given, "yes thank you and you can call again"
He had given the man her number, not called himself, good...

Much later, after a hard day at work, the obsession
Bites, money in his pocket, that beat up old Ford pickup
Keys in his pocket, a roof he can hang in till kicked out
He sees a friend, the packet trembles in his hand or is it
His hand that trembles, the rig falls to the pavement
One time, again it falls, the packet slips, and the powder
Spills, does not matter, he pulls up, knocks on the door
"Hey man hit me again here" and hands over that green
Wad of cash, the black man glares and turns to the wall
Returns, pulls the trigger and fires, he's gone, at peace
Finally dead, "you mother fucker" don't come to my house.."
The bus pulls out, he is headed east, west, below the grace...

Storm Drain..."For A"

Storm Drain
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
December 4th, 2006

Interloper came, demanding satisfaction, bill collector of the spirit
Flying higher than the red kite you knew as a boy, and treasured
Yet low enough to see, perhaps fear, never invite in, no not here
To this dark, dank, hole, this quiet and wet tunnel beneath the clean
Air, and world above all else, you have lived here for too long,
Come out, the sun will not burn your pale skin, come forth

The night is ice cold, bitter, there are snowflakes
Scurrying out of the sky, beating pathways of
Substance on the sidewalk below, the windshields
Freeze it is an early winter storm, come out...

She knows not when pain is an enemy, a faint friend, falling about her
Invading clearer thoughts, God's will and wisdom is healing if she
Remembers not to fall down, dark eyes blinded by FEAR, the tidal
Wave ended years ago, this new journey is hard for one beaten
Down to ashes, burned to dust, and left for dead in a dumpster
That is over if you let it be, join your friend, smile, he is waiting...

The wilderness is quiet, and the small fire smells
Of coffee grounds buried below, the stew you made
Caught fresh, skinned, ingested and sleep is coming
Softly, gently into your tired form, lay down, rest...

The highway is so long, tedious but brand new this trip, for it is
The last time she will venture from west to east, she will stop
Along the way and revel in how all is "new" and fresh, that the
Dialects change and never was she Texan, but she was his, all
He is belongs within her heart, and all she will be and grow is
His alone, even when sounds rise to a loud pitch, this is love...



There is a lone sparrow perched upon that telephone line, if you
Did not look closely you would miss him, for he blends simply
Into the background, he is powerful and yet silent, gentle of heart
Strong of will and physical endurance, he is able to reach forth
In the cold dark night, or stand totally still in the vapid heat of
Summer day, and not perish, for death is not his life's work

The church down the road, not far from the post office
Comes alive on Sunday, the rocky parking lot fills and
They pray in silent misery, they sing in loud joy and we
Cannot say God is NOT here, for we do not know...

She is beginning to see every long blade of pasture grass, so deep
Green, dampened with morning dew drops, the heavy summer air
Sits, awaiting the sun to rise to high temperature, and the work of
Creatures in the field continues, the chirping frog, the buzzing honey
Bees, the cow's tail smacks a horsefly in lazy motion, a stray kitten
Comes upon the field mice who escape, and hide once more...

He knew "before she knew" and loved before she
Could open her big heart to him, she skipped in the
Rain, smiled and thought she was doing right, and today
The heaviness tries to lift itself off her burdened soul...

Frustration is biting her and nagging, pushing her back to memory
God says "no" and she listens, stops her "thinker" and relaxes
Her frail physical form, to absorb HIS grace, HIS healing presence
"If only it would stop" and HE hears her cry, HE listens, and now
She must be quiet, very still, without any self-will to finally be
Touched just once (that's all it takes); trust the outstretched hand..



HE is kind, loving, and good; the taste of sweet chocolate cookie upon
My tongue, the comfort of a fire roaring in a home protected from the world
A child's innocence, acceptance, and willingness to move into HIS arms
Receive comfort, a first breath of life, a promise of earthly life to share
To be like HIM truly, not hold onto the damaged vessel of physical despair
A seagull cries in the distance, and that Greek ship slowly comes to port

"Let go my child" and the words enter this open door and
Fear battles to keep a death grip around her throat, but she does
A sensation of oneness fills her briefly, she seeks more and knows
She cannot ask HE will give in HIS time, today is a start, beginning...

Empty thoughts will become the foundation, let the mind be vacuumed
Cleared of all events of life experience, seek nothing--receive all of HIM
Be willing to love that which you hate (for it is only you), be sweet as the
Gentle honeysuckle growing freely in the forest, fly as the morning dove
To meet his partner upon the fence, do not judge yourself for today you
Are not to be again, this medicine is of conscience, and the triune God...

The pen falls from her hand, the tolling church bell is quiet
This street is unfamiliar, and the faces all different, somehow
The day is the first, there is frozen earth, scant snow covering
Blades of grass strong enough to remain, there is no time at all...

"God take all of me as you will" and the suffering stops, the body cannot
Remember what it has been cleansed to "forget" and the stars are now
Dotting the ground (not the sky) and the children are laughing aloud in
A school yard beyond the clouds and on high, somewhere not here not
Now...The fruit is blooming on flower stems, and the oak trees bear
Ice pops in grape, orange, and cherry, do you see to believe you must stop...



The Lord must receive me, release me from chains
On my knees I pray for patience, just one more day
The Christmas tree smells fragrant, it is not mine, alone
I will be until all is let go to HE who surely will save me...
God alone, no one else, can save, and heal me...
"Amen" the tears fall, stop, to fade away...
Thank you for this day...