settling of abandonment…

I was drawn to reach for his hand

blame it on the quietness of the moment

or the softer side of my heart

as if peace became the only hymn

What did it mean when my hesitation lingered longer than it ever should

as I think of last night, and that moment

I realize like everything of me dressed in femininity

 I fear abandonment

I turned my head away to watch the

darkness racing past the car window

the tempo of the road faint, like my breathing

it seemed safer not to watch the shadows of my hand closing over his

The warmth of his hand was not what it once was, long ago

he did not flinch

did not react to my warmth

did not reach to cradle my fingers

there was no movement

nor the intake of breath

and then I knew

the end

I let my hand stroke his for a moment longer

it spoke of love and apologies

the gentle cradling of our children

and the dying of battles and wars

the white flag, faded, ever tattered, and muddied

I surrendered to being untouched

and slipped into the settling of abandonment

it wasn’t relief though

it was like reading the last page

with an ending unexpected, and no resolution

it was sadness and disappointment

a dull ache in my chest

as I lifted my hand away from his

my heart heard loneliness I so often recognized

the wall was thick and rough

and my palms felt bloodied from trying to climb over

I thought I could soften the stone

only my heart has soften from the years it laid next to him

although I feel the scars stretch and tear a little more

I imagine he does as well

we feel the tear in the fabric

the unravelling of thread…

 

I bowed my head

lightly traced the veins inside my left wrist…

I wish to never be abandoned again

 

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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!

 

once upon a sleeper…

you opened my cocooned pod
I felt the ice melting
from my cryogenic sleep
raising my beats
from shunned to shine
I began to upcycle wasted tears
eyelashes coated with stardust 
I braved the idea of possibilites
conquered a black diamond run
one turn at time
I was felled darling
with black dove wings
trying to reach peace
atop your sky…

I don’t know now 
where you are…

I have forgotten…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called breathing
what it’s like to lay
effortless
easy
unaware 
unaffected…

I have fogotten this thing
this thing called comfort 
what its like to be wrapped
safely tucked in
warm
weatherproofed
protected…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called forgetting
forgetting to forget
your color
your beauty
your reflection
sound of every word you’ve written…

I have forgotten this thing
this thing called L (cursor blinking)

no! I haven’t forgotten
*erases that line

I don’t know this thing
this thing called

…LOVE…

3:00 am confessions…

The moon holds them
Buried in dust
these fragments
jagged little pieces
of unwanted things
Not a word out of mouth
only glare into the 3:00 am 
darkness…
i dont really matter
this woven fabric smothers my heart
knitted of sadness and uncertainty
embroidered with midnight blue
and silence…

impossble to grow new skin…the shadows know

I kept scrubbing to strip
myself into new skin
hard as I tried to reclaim
the skin I’m dying for
I still woke up me…

A tired unwanted woman…
(inserting self-hatred things here…) 

I tried to baptized
my skin in the bath
to renew 
refresh
recall 
recalibrate
yet it remained 
as it has been 
the ruination of a once
wanted beauty
and slowly I slip
into the darkness
of shadows
where I search for my 
cold breathe
letting me know
I still breathe