How we assume things about another, and we so wanna be right, to sooth ourselves in this little twisted world of ours. Wasn’t it supposed to be more beautiful that this? — than all the concepts we decided to agree on, and the ones we don’t, and aren’t all men born from a woman, and don’t we hold them?
I wonder sometimes how it all came into place and how not knowing oneself seems to be one of the hardest things in life. But I do believe that the universe will wake up to itself when it’s ready. …
shaken up by the mind’s eye
with being someone
longing and searching
trying hard to be consistent
trying hard to be someone
when learning about the places beyond
like a grown woman
howling into natures ear
listening to each moment anew
what am I doing here, in a place where this is real?
the scale of their longing so wide
demanding a cosmic response
and the world opens up to make room for them
Spinning around itself wondrously,
aligned with a knowingness that has to lie outside itself,
or so deeply ingrained within
that it could hardly be separated
from any intention breathing through our universe.
And it is moving this planet, this home of ours,
orchestrated seamlessly by an informed whisper.
Infinitely more, doing just the same, but different,
aligned with where they need to be in a never-ending openness.
Finding it for their moment.
There is so much out there, and yet we are here. …
Both sprung from life, we’d draw and giggle,
observing all that was and could be.
Our beings in tune,
knowing each other through a long line of relation.
Setting foot on the same planet once again,
souls cheering when catching a glimpse of the other.
And waving, as if waving to oneself in the mirror —
reflecting in the richness of love.
Your presence like a bear,
as if a loving protective smile has been drawn across your lifeline.
Coloring your every interaction,
caring for everybody's burdened mind.
Dancing like an untamed child, through crowds and empty spaces,
as the taste of joy could never be lost on you,
for your heart is too big a home for its every whisper.
How tender a human being you are.
Trying to stretch my arms to reach across the oceans.
Missing you today my darling friend.
Kept me going this one, through a down-and-out spurt of life.
Mellow knees in places that no longer see fit for me to be in.
Aretha in conversation with free jazz and OutKast following me down the river. It’s snowing there, and I can’t believe how beautiful Paris can be.
Breaking in the city with a midnight walk.
Lights blurred, torn by the cold winter daze and my coat wet as the snow kept coming at it. Moments of awe and wonder weaving into lonesome banter.
Losing myself in an unknown place with unknown faces waiting.
It was a big…
Thunder stepping quietly, while
the moon is rising in the mouth of a minor,
a boy child —
lurking in the underbelly.
Whispering the songbirds chipper,
in his empty ear.
Searching a turmoil mind-
seeding roots in the mountain desert.
Planting the taste for judgement.
Rising to walk, to turn, to crawl,
adapting to the sound of prayer above his little head.
Flowing on a stream through the clouds,
What does nature sound like?
What does it sound like within you?
Would you sing it to me darling?
Filling a train with lessons learned, stuffing it…
There is a long pause,
and there is you right in the middle of it.
Sinking ship under the stars.
They aren’t out tonight, but days ago the moon — pregnant in its winter glow — sat with its face across from mine. Rooting into this world. And a swinging wrinkled adolescent, bright white hair, short as grass greeting us, welcoming in the halls of our tower. You were woods growing dark, and I’d be lightness and be you.
How rarely you came up for air when I was water. Church bells singing through the light and night just the…
It was in the way the sun hit the buildings in the morning and in how the shadows would go on to shape themselves.
It was in the sounds of the waking city, in the hustle building up inside of it that left no room for someone like us.
It was in listening to the seagulls talk and in observing how they would turn into stars above us when the night came.
It was in watching the world turn
that would lead us homeward.
It’s breathing - in and out- and remembering that just like that,
everything will find you in time
Easy like a river runs,
like a tree -growing tall.
It is all there. It won’t miss you.
Nor will you.
Life is soft with us, but we can’t see that.
It is gentle. It helps us up.
You breathe, just like that, if you want to or not.
Your heart will beat, your lungs expand for you.
In touch with all that is and you can’t help but be a part.
Trying to rationalize it - put it together that puzzle…