just self

You reduce me to

my least common denominator

reduce me to what

I am without the pomp and circumstance

self-imposed

self-induced

just self

You reduce me to

the bedrock of who

I take joy in considering myself to be

reduce me to what

I am without the query and introspection

self-indulgent

self-limiting

just self

You reduce my

raging will to

beneath what the

wind cradles

reduce me to what

I am beneath

just beneath

and by your reduction

I am Added

I am Multiplied

I am Amplified

I am Magnified

I am

emphatically

Increased

Awakened

Made known

to self

my self

just self

Wearing Someone Else’s Shoes

Wild Heart Scribe:

Been wearing my own shoes for a while now. :) It is good sometimes to recall how it was. When you use the past with the best intention, it can serve to foster more gratitude for what is.

Originally posted on Wild Heart Scribe:

Sitting alone in the parking lot
snickering leather flexing itself
against my foolish spine
waiting for you till almost the next day
wearing a stupid blue and yellow flowered sundress…
wearing someone else’s shoes

Sitting in the heavy hushed hall
mahogany uprightness brandishing itself
against my troubled spine
waiting for reason to slap my silly face
wearing a stupid blue and yellow flowered sundress…
wearing someone else’s shoes

Sitting son next to me on the bench
slapping a sticky hand carnival toy
against the daytime busy floor
waiting for reason to slap mommy’s silly face
wearing a stupid blue and yellow flowered sundress…
wearing someone else’s shoes

Sitting memory frozen there,
ends there, never moving forward
against my defensive mind
I guess I said I do
I guess you did, too..
I guess I walked out in someone else’s shoes

Sitting in the sorriest choice I ever chose
on a…

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Sing With Me

I call to you

you call to me

taking trips to

the other’s tree

wings slicing through

air and space…

space..

it is the space that

makes us free….

makes us one…

it is the space that

makes me free.

I am special.

There are no favorites so,

so are you.

It is space that

sets me to flight

so I can land in your tree,

share space on a limb,

share space between

the notes of our

aurora song.

Sing with me…

an anthem of life

a piece of presence…

the peace of presence…

an aria of

here and now

so all the world

can look up and feel

WOW

 

Intrigue

Do you feel my pull

the pull of the memory

of what was once

partially known

the pull of the wonder

of what could be known

the pull of the intrigue

of knowing the

secret behind the

nearly sheer veil of the

champagne cream

that is me

I don’t mean to pull you…

I don’t…

you dream

hesitant dreams

esoteric dreams

ardent dreams

of being the

right corner to a triangle

where I lord over rapture

from the highest point…

but I am a circle,

not rigid and tight…

not angled

but permeable and loose…

so perfect

I can let you in

I can send you out…

but instead

I pull you in,

not knowing my strength…

the circle of allure,

it halos me…

you stand at the corner

of the triangle knocking

but I am a circle

and what’s inside is

more than can be seen

in even a

deep, dizzying gaze

behind the

nearly sheer veil of the

champagne cream

that is me

The Dance

Purple beneath me

and to both sides…

genesis of

sunrise sky

above and around…

crossed limbs

opened palms

sense of

chilling space

above and around…

you claimed

my attention

at the start

but eyes soon closed

to the unfolding,

leaving

only sound to

pave my way…

but you

lifted my chin

coaxed my

eyes to open…

I looked up,

you found me

again

and you danced in

fluid circles

at first…

at first

you danced in

fluid circles

then quick floating

darts here

then there…

dazzling my being

wooing my essence

with your

flight

flow

flurry…

you danced for me…

the haze that tailed

your movement

as absorbing as

your seraphic light

until impulsively

you burst into

atmospheric dust

once,

twice,

lost count,

reaching

away

rippling

away

from your center

like a firework,

my mouth wide

in wonder

in homage

in applause…

then back to the dance

until the solis rise

tugged the rope

for your final curtain call…

why did you dance for me

I cannot tell a soul

for fear in the telling

would come defining…

Ah, there is

no need for fear

when I simply

point to what is…

my spirit saw a dance

and kindly let my eyes watch

a dance

perhaps

not new

but

I never knew…

today a star danced for me…

thank you

A Daddy, Too

Just a regular day at the bank with JG until the bank lady traveled down a seemingly innocuous road of questions.

Upon hearing that JG was the only girl of the family and the youngest, the bank teller asked, “Do you like being the only girl?”

JG replied softly, “No, I always want a sister…and a Daddy, too.”

My first instinct was to shush her. But is that really my first instinct? Or is it my conditioned response after a lifetime of accepting that feelings are to be kept quietly hidden, neatly tucked away?

She, in that moment, simply stated what was in her heart. Her heaviest desire came spilling out of her with ease from a mind not yet conditioned to be embarrassed by what the heart feels. Would I rather her share it or stuff it? Perhaps in the sharing, it lost some of its sting in her mind. Perhaps in the sharing, it lost some of its grip around her sweet heart. Perhaps in the stuffing, I am blocking coolness from touching the hot spot of need that sometimes scorches many parts of who she is.

I, in that moment, wanted her to stuff it. But, why? Because of what the bank lady would think? No, that’s not it. I wanted her to stuff it because I could do nothing about it. I don’t want her to have needs and desires I cannot find a way to fulfill. I don’t want her to have pains and hurts I cannot find a way to fix. I wanted her to stuff it because that is what I had always done. Stuffing is familiar and gives me a false sense of wellness. I think I wanted that false sense of wellness for her, too.

I, in this moment, recognize that to want her to pretend to feel something she doesn’t for the sake of my own comfort is one of the most selfish emotions I have ever dipped into and wallowed around in. I love the simplicity with which she stated her most painful, unmet desire… the desire for the authentic love of and relationship with a man she can call Daddy. I applaud her for still being in that free place where life is what it is and she is not afraid to say so. I hope I never help to condition her mind that she is wrong in her freedom to speak what is in her heart to speak.

I hope one day she reads this and sees what a brave little girl she was and how much she helped me to grow into a mother that she can rely on, trust in…one that will only help her be who she is and not warp her into someone neither of us will recognize.

So, if she needs to share, I won’t force her to stuff it. If her desire overflows out of her grieving heart and she needs to speak it, I won’t teach her to feel embarrassed. If she feels the freedom to give voice to her lack, I will not force her to wear a cloak of false wellness. Today, and hopefully every day, I will shush the part of me that wants to shush her.

Free My Mind

Wild Heart Scribe:

Another reblog…I wrote this last April on the 26th. Ironically, just this morning I was thinking how badly I still want to start meditating. April must be a rebirth kind of month for me! :)

Originally posted on Wild Heart Scribe:

I want to be free…
free from what was
free from what is
free from what soon
and far away will be.
I want to trip over nothing
Rest my back against everything…
I just want to be free

…So, I’ve decided to “learn” how to meditate. Quieting this mind won’t be easy! :)

View original

Don’t Pass Me By

Wild Heart Scribe:

Needed to remind myself today that life is to be lived…

Originally posted on Wild Heart Scribe:

Desirous peeks through closed fingers
I once watched you move on the
turquoise swirl without me…
passing me by.
Deflated shrugs on laden shoulders
I once watched you move on the
turquoise swirl without me…
passing me by.
Confidence gone to the white-dotted blue stretch…
quintessence gifted to the white-capped blue sea
I knew not where to find the rest of me.
Body lifeless in the flow of a jasmine-scented breeze…
Feet locked in a lonesome barren-scented land
I knew not how to find my place to stand.
Watching you mix and mingle
in and around
and all over
the turquoise swirl
touching, tapping,
thrilling moving forms…
slow the spin
let me back in…
slow it down
let me back on…
Don’t pass me by, please
Touch me, too
Leave me not
I’m still here
I swear I’m ready now
Life, do you hear me?
Don’t pass me by!

View original

What Makes You Smile

Yes, what breaks your heart

crushes mine

your groans make me ache

your tears make my face wet

miles and fears apart

and yes…

what makes you smile

makes me laugh out loud

 

Yes, your grief cuts my breath in quarters

shiny, spinning quarters

black, unmoving quarters

your unanswered questions make me want to

swallow the knowledge of the ages

so I can give it to you in my breath

and yes…

what makes you smile

makes me laugh out loud

 

Because you are my gift out of what can be

a cold and lonely world…

you make my world warm

you lighten my steps

you free me and put fire in my eyes

because…

what makes you smile

makes me laugh out loud

 

Not because I’m an extension of you…

I am all me…

Not because you are my other half…

you aren’t…

not because you are my better half…

you could never be…

it’s because…

what makes you smile

makes me laugh out loud

 

I know you wonder

when my words will

rouse from

rapturous yearnings

to roses are red yawns

like you know they will…

I know they won’t…

the best poem

I have ever written

is found in every

present moment with you

and I revel and slink

only the way I can

along every line

because life has taught

me what it means…

so I join my wholeness

to your wholeness

and together we are more

spirited

psychedelic

stunning

than when alone…

now do what you do…

smile…

so I can laugh out loud

 

 

She Stands

She stood atop a hill

heels spearing their way

into the forgiving earth

sliding the circle off

gray concrete in her eyes

calling every broke day

reaching out to each

weighted night there had ever been

letting all of it rinse through her

even as the breeze toyed

with the hem of her blackness

 

She sat atop a hill

back married to

scratchy bark

sliding the circle on

green life pitching above

calling every rich moment

reaching out to each

point of light there had ever been

letting all of it wash over her

even as the hem of her blackness

created a border not to be crossed

by the even trail of sugar ants

 

She lied atop a hill

arms stretched to her sides

hair stretched across the earth

releasing the circle

golden light stretched along her

salty dampness

turning to watch it

roll

and

hobble

roll

and

hobble

freeing every broke day

bidding goodbye to every rich moment

letting all of it roll

to the bottom of the hill

even as the breeze toyed

with the hem of her blackness