some kind of wonderful…

I am not breathing

existing

to convince you of me

you already know my darling

I consider where we lay our minds

what our hearts have experienced

this unfolding is worthy

worthy to be written of

spoken of

experienced

yet I am only one third

one strand, plaited

I am one star in your sky of a thousand

a spec of real blooming in a field of illusion

but look at me here

perhaps I am trying

trying to convince you of me

but you already know…

remember me

my love

 

This did not come out as I wanted. I think some parts of me still choose to be hidden. I am not even certain what I was starting to write, or what any of this means, other than I just started writing (but that is typical of my writing process) I believe the seeds are still germinating. Roots are in my heart but the blooms, the stems, the leaves are all sleeping under the surface.

Sunday is a day of rest for me. A day I live under no expectations or duty. I just simply slip into comfort, create this nurturing womb, breathe free, write a river, cry an ocean, laugh and sing a garden. It is beauty evolving and the dying of old layers. I am learning to love myself, take care of this beautiful body that has brought me this far. She deserves to be taken care of and once I put aside all the lies of my mind, I am becoming what I was meant to all along. I am opening…

I have a found a soul family of those who understand what I am currently going through. Putting a voice to this excruciating yet beautful transformation has been so very helpful. I wish I could say I am past all my fears and just write about what I experiencing, but I am not quite there yet. Although, I am clearer now, more certain of myself and my path, and I am living in the moment, just enjoying what is here within me, around me, from me, at any given moment. This doesn’t mean I don’t have dreams or desires, because, OH MY…my desires, my dreams are strong and gorgeously painted in my heart. It just means I am more than ever before in a fantastic place to realize those dreams and desires.

And for the moment, all is well with my soul while I wait. I am in some kind of wonderful…

 

 

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somewhere where words remain silent…

I am fathomed wreakage

brevity in deep water

Perhaps to some it is perfectly suitable to stay drowed in this reality

and leave the unknown to better souls

but Fuck that!

I am life times ten thousands more

ransom breath of divine’s beauty

the kind you could inhale and leave you

uncertain of gentle stings

wondering the softness of honey

I am more simple if only one is open to it

complexity is only imagined

when one doesn’t care to explore

lazy love doesn’t exist

love is love

or it isn’t…

 

 

 

 

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

 

her dark vines…

I feel that rising of deep dark
I know what it means
I know survival
it doesn’t feel as choking if I surrender
so I will let it cover my feet
bind my hands
wrap around my chest…my spine
feel it settle across my mouth
shhhh…don’t try speak it away
just open to the flow of magma
let it burn
I am to lay here letting it ooze from my skin
I don’t even know what’s left inside me
perhaps its something God knows
here in this garden he grew inside me
weeds tangle softer blooms
killing their scent…
I know this too shall pass
and refinement I perpetually crave
 

if anything, it is a beautiful dream…

I am uncertain I have that vision of possibility
my jaw feels numb as I consider every random bit of me
I blow the incense dust from my keyboard
how did it settle here?
Should I cover my eyes
my mouth 
my heart 
in perfumed smoke
would that make me sacred enough
beautiful enough
to fit your kingdom
to be open inside
you 
I feel at this moment so very
ANCIENT
and missing
components 
a keyed realm so far off
pretty & glamourous
and perhaps you have realized this all along

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

 

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

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!