War to love…

I use to think I needed to reach a certain place to be defined as successful, but I have move beyond those thoughts. I choose to not remain in a certain place, nor plant my feet on any plateau, nor assume I am completed pieces of a put-together-puzzle! Life is evolution, ever in motion, in a constant state of flux, a river snaked to the ocean, evaporation to rain, of storms and swells, lapping tides, rushing and crashing, to calming ebb and flow.

I willingly dive into life’s waters, yet it is not always an easy choice. Even seemingly safe waters are decieving, distances are skewed, the shallows are not necessarily safe, and a deeper depth just may save you…what appears to be, is not always what is. To live is to risk! Evanesce of pain and hurt requires change, requires one to rage war within, requires an acceptance of dark to find light, to search bloody battlefields of self to find love, to love oneself and to love others.

To become love is my choosing and it  has been so very hard these past few years to be open to change, to brave the heartwrenching pain that comes from stretching beyond self-imposed thresholds, so that I may peel back layers, dismantle the metal armor, tear rancid flesh from my bones lying in blood and dust,  just to expose the very core of my existence. I am full of scars, and still tend to the cuts bleeding…self-love does rage against self-hate. Yet, how precious my spirit, my soul, willing to risk all that I created, everything desirable and undesireable, all that I have known, to become more than a statistic, more than a label, more than my sex, more than my physical body, more than someone else’s measure of my worth.

And where does all this leave me? Still willing! Trusting this moment to lead me into the next moment, to guide me from novice to mastery…through war…to love

 

❤ M

 

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being…

I need not to think

 but just rest in knowing this moment

 for the past is no longer

and the future yet to be

I do not need to think

I may rest in this knowing of now

because to think is to develop expectation

and expectation is to focus on the non exisiting

( both past and future)

and to live in the past or the future

is not opening

is not flowering

is not spreading seeds

nor perfume

in the present moment

and to not be in the moment of now

is limiting

is suppression

is not breathing pure existence

but rather weighted in illusion

I need not to think

but to only be

 

meditation…

I am already inward
everything I am to know
I have birthed
I am breathing
to go outward 
is to step into illusion
is to block fluidity
is to deny my soul’s experience
my soul’s existence
inner-knowing
is to be potentiality
the center point of experience
unexpectant
unencumbered

 

this gentle stillness
this knowing
this love
I am; experience

 

a wildness honing…

I have lived a lifetime in this last year. I am aged and I am split into versions of me. I’m letting go of the old to clear way for the new, yet I have deep ties to the older version of me that I won’t…can’t unthether.  Not that anyone is asking or expecting me to. Some things I must hold and carry with me, which I am gloriously happy to do so.

The next steps I take are a sensitive matter…this path requiring a delicate balance. I must trust my ability, spread love farther, deeper than ever I’ve chance. I am willing! I am willing to experience life rather than be in it. To fling wide my heart and paint my passion, rest and withdraw when necessary, ride the waves of emotions, trust my inner-knowing and LOVE from the deepest depths within me. I am willing to live, never having not love with grace and beauty,

This is a pivotal point, a portent, a masterpiece emerging, a wildness honing…

a starlit hope…

I don’t want to return
to those seconds where I died
it is not the scene of a pretty flower wiliting
rather a self-massacre
a dissection of  heart and mind and soul
I drowned in my own pooled blood
it was warm for a  few minutes
as if relief escaped the wound
I so thick-layered with darkness
I could only reach out into the emptiness
I don’t need to return to that lifetime
I just never want to forget death
for rebirth follows
long ago in that darkness
a star shone its message
and my heart still yearns
for its lighted hope

undefining love…

I am passing into this knowing…

unapologetically wild

 ever is my love alame

never to change nor dissipate

 birthed immortal

from a distance unleashed

illuminating unexpectedly

alchemical and fluent

an artistry becoming

unending

burning pure and sweetly

this force unclaimed

 meant for others

may they draw breath from me

stroking a willingness

to move beyond

the reticent settlement

of their heart…

may I always be giving of this beautiful gift

may I always faithfully and fully comprehend it

may I never be ashamed of my heart

may I never expect it returned

may I illuminate

LOVE

 

Love is undefineable! So to limit its meaning within the confines of the human mind is butchering love’s ability. If we must measure it, know it is pure and limitless. Anything short of that, know it is love skewed. I have been here before…this place of shame for my ability to love. Sometimes writing poetry speaking of such distorted perception; ultimately placing restrictions out of fear and lack. It has only birthed more fear and lack. To love just to love, without expectation and gain is a constant war of ego and soul. It is very human to be at war with love within. I am learning of love, of loving myself, and letting go of an ideal, and an expectated outcome. I am undefining love!

 

the Red Cardinal and the Blue Jay…

they held time

bending air

if only a few seconds

hovering

the length of their wingspan

chest to chest

wide open and roaring

as if the twisting of flames

to lay claim their truth

an undeniable totem

so beautiful a rare moment…

 and suddenly there we were

you and I

suspended and stilled

secret and lies

truth and clarity

a spiritual silence 

 a warring awakening

…nothing and everything

I have really stepped away from writing for quite sometime now. It’s not an intentional thing, rather I just found myself distant from my writing self. Perhaps I created these heavy barriers!  My fears spoke a little while back, I was paralyzed for a few minutes in the space of a few minutes, and that fear ultimately pushed me into a silence I no longer care to fucking endure. Of course there are more reasons I care not to reveal but let me say it is/has been a rough path I wander. I know now why I have gone this way…I do so for growth, truth, clarity, because it is a necessary process, the kind where towers collaspe, the truth of the weak foundation exposed, the kind where I welcome the shedding of old skin, ridding the dust that has settled inbetween the cracks of all the previous years. Despite the overwhlming ache and pain, in the deepest part of my soul, this shedding comes regardless. All these dark layers, the wastelands that are uncovered, they are the fuel for a beautiful propulsion through an opening in the veil. I gratefully, achefully, painfully, knee-deep and drowing, wade through it all. I don’t want to go back to the other side, the side faded of the truth of me. So I let the vapor overtake and permeate, the ghosts care not to stay here in this atmosphere. This valley I look out into and walk through is for the greatest reason and that greatest reason is always for LOVE…a love beyond the limitations of our human mind. It starts within! A deeper, slow growing seed, watered for longer than a millennia, or more, and often again and again!

The poem is not necessarily speaking of the field I have been in. And yet is so true to form in my writing. Multiple layers weaved through simple words as the humaness of me and the spiritual inner knowing of me soaks into and colors the pages. I never see it until later afte r the writing is down on the page.

This morning during my walk I realized how much I miss the poetess in me. I feel more beautiful, as if she is the only truth to me, but I know I am she and she is me! I am many parts of a whole…some parts lay stilled, far away, seperated from me/she (That is a longer story!)

Anyway, this morning during my walk I knew I needed to bring back my breath, open my heart again, break free from self-imposed chains of expectations that have failed to come true. So after my walk, when sharing space with my granddaugter and one of my beautiful daughters, we sat quiet as the music played. I was relaxed and at peace, content for the gentle moment. I could feel the energy building, the words daring to writhe to the surface. A hunger…a knowing

Music is a muse that manifests poetry from a deep place in me. I always feel I am reminisceing of earlier lifetimes when writing. Often I stare out the window and let the sound move through me. That is just the dancer in me…lost in the rythmn and it was in that moment, lost for a few seconds, that suddenly a flash of blue and red flew by my window. And there they were, the cardinal and the blue jay, stilled, as if time stopped or at least slowed, wings wide spread, chest to chest, a beautiful war, a beautiful dance…

And, so very reminiscent of the many shades and shapes of us, my love!

 

a fading lifespan…

her strength never failed

somewhere there hiding in the shadows

simply ready to be as she was born to be

a warrioress, a teacher,  a healer

divine feminine lying in wait

for her human fragility

to shatter as porcelain

gather every delicate piece

rearrange herself an artpiece

arise anew

This poem was written 3 months ago. I had no idea I wrote this until now as I decided to look at the drafts folder. So many times I have started to write only to abandon it, and yet, have I?  My heart knew what my mind did not…to let fade a hurting lifespan, and to become anew

 

 

 

 

an anniversary…a death…a resurrection

It has been 2 years since registering on WordPress. So it stated in my notifications a few days ago. It hasn’t felt that long ago even with all the pauses I took from writing. Perhaps that is what came to mind (is time relevant?) when I thought about the purpose of my writing. I asked myself if I wanted to keep writing in the same manner, still feel the same pain over and over again, experience the same ache and loneliness wedged inbetween the lines, wake up a few years from now still carrying the heaviness of loss?

I have taken quite a extensive break from writing in the last couple of months. I just stopped feeling inspired! I felt a part of me die! I felt that I had nothing more to say! I felt once again that the same pattern came back to haunt me! And, so I let go! Every once in awhile I worried I would never write again, but writing is inside me, alive and breathing. I lay dormant so I could release the old energy I have carried for a long while now. and in my stillness I suffered, was pummled, torn and cut, cried, mourned, died a thousand deaths, but not without reason, not without purpose. The dark night of the shadow is very true. My moon groaned…my sun dimmed…ego death is so very hard to embrace.

So I am here again, without expectation. A resurrection? Well, not the old shadow self. But there will be more shedding of old skin…you can just sense it when you have more to release…beauty from ashes, let me burn…I am still becoming M