quell this sea
in my heart and in my head
pulling me under
you carry me out again
in lifetimes and oceans of you
in my heart and in my head
pulling me under
in lifetimes and oceans of you
I should have made coffee instead of exploring. I saw it today…how eerily close to the truth I was of that weekend. My concern or fear then was realized. I suppose from another’s 3D viewpoint they could easily described how hopeless it all is. I know it is not that I am not enough (although it is hard to not feel that I am) rather, it’s more like not the human vision of what is desired. I have been hopeful but now it seems pointless to hold hope of incredible love. It exists!…that soulful love, yet some are just not meant to have the tangible experience. I feel this overwhelming sadness attached to my thoughts. How can I say I am defeated when I carry this beautiful ability to love deeply? But I do…I feel so very defeated. Every chance of love has slipped through my fingers. This wretched ache in my heart and my throat…tiny tears become so heavy within.
So many goodbyes…
I am exhausted of them and my heart begins to slowly close
reminiscent of something beautiful
I am falling
like light filtered through trees
almost feathering across your heart
when I reach you
it will only illuminate
a deeper violet flame
skin to skin
we are shimmer and blaze
love & healing
connected before time
ever knew to be
The above is an excerpt from my current creative project, in the making since February of this year. I have no time table as to when it will be complete, as inspiration comes delivered in increments of divine timing.
I am constantly being tested and learning to be giving, and receptive to self-love, unconditional love, awareness, and patience…
glance at you
with all my humaness
my mind slips into
of all the things
I am/am not…
She stands on the outside of her front door adjusting the armful of items left in the car, fiddling with her keys to unlock the the door…she slips the key in the lock and exhales a long breath, heavy with discontent, knowing what awaits her on the other side.
The above was written two years ago and has been in my list of drafts. I find it interesting to go through and read what I had started to speak. Somethings trigger memory of what I was feeling at the moment, and others, I realize they come from a deeper place. A place I am still uncovering.
I honor these simple drafts! From one word to a pageful of emotion. I very rarely, if ever write from my head. I was called a heartspiller quite sometime ago by wonderful soul. He knew that I am poured out, best served from the deepest part of my heart.
And I continue to remain…
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…
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
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
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
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!
silence shapes me
my heart speaks differently anymore
I inhale trust in an atmosphere
fragile & porcelain
walking among the fields of clarity
behind me lost languages lay forgotten
extinction birthed as I turn
EDC - scientist now writing - none of us is one thing - I've been called a few.
My soul connection journey
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the stories behind the pictures, and vice versa