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…

 

 

Advertisements

an unraveling and eating dust of dying light

I see it now

colors of evidence

screaming goodbye

I am slit and fading

drained

quickly becoming a no-thing

everything I feel

I can’t speak

there is no language

designed of this world

to speak of me

I am unraveling

a pile of disheveled threads

and slip into death

another pointed star

embedded in my heart

a burden bleeding

staring at the edge of love

eating dust of my dying light

settling in cracks

and the jackals pace…

smelling my decay

waiting for my last breath

 

 

an excerpt…

Transmutation

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

radiance

finally remembered

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…

 

 

 

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

 

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

a mooring truth…

my god how I hear

the sound of years

centuries of lifetimes spent

creating…disassembling…

so many precious hours

that which equal the stars

all to reach this one moment

a mooring truth

I  do remember

This poem I started a day or two ago but could not finish. I could feel the energy buzzing the tip of my mind/tongue and yet, nothing flew to the page. Today I was able, in a few moments, to write what came. I love moments such as these. Clarity unveiled! I asked, prayed I should say, for divine guidance concerning direction, a purpose…my life’s mission, hoping that whatever aimlessness, unassurace in my writing was actually for something more than not. I received that truth today, or at least a small glimpse of that truth which is most assuredly moored to my writing. Many things I’ve written in past poetry/writing, on this blog, my other blog, Instagram, even a couple of twitter accounts (which I haven’t written there in quite sometime) I now realize have more significance than I could have possibly imagined! These last few years have been hours, minutes, and seconds lived horrifically torturous and beautifully awakening, all divinely guided towards total self-transformation. So where does this knowledge lead me? There is no end destination per se. I just know that my writing is not for not! And that I should speak my truth of what has lead me to this precipise I am at!