Rhymes that Grow Like Ripe Vines
out of My Cracked and Stressed-Out Mind
Oct 6th, 2020.
Drinking some orange zest herbal tea
as I let my pen flow and my thoughts grow
to lend some vibes and glow
to these throws of thought in the night,
taking my budding imagination flights
and setting them gently afloat with a touch feather light.
It’s been too long since I’ve set time aside to sing along
to the the rhymes that grow like ripe vines
out of my cracked and stressed-out mind,
like gently prying fingers,
ones that nature has set within me to nurture,
stretch and further,
to lovingly crack apart my ego
to once again shed light through the cracked earth
of my individual reality and remind me of life’s order…
They remind me that within and underneath
we are all each and all complete,
replete with a sense of well-being and gently bubbling hope
to chip and drip and slowly wash away
at any sense of defeat brought on by society
that can mean well but often just gives us thoughts
that remove us from our true natures
that can be so simple, so sweet.
This sense in all that dense mess can be fleeting,
that glimpse of easy peace and knowing
that we are all one and one all,
that in choosing to stand tall despite worrying
about the pain the pain of the seemingly inevitable fall,
we find that so many others around us were waiting
with patience for us to realize
we can shed the fear to which we were thralled.
As we stand in the light that seemed so bright,
our eyes will adjust and we’ll find with grins and open delight
that we have family too that
have each taken a stand in their own fight,
discovered how to emit their own glow in their own graceful might.
We all fear the glow at first,
as its glare always hurts our eyes
until our optics can rehearse
how to take in the rays and understand
how to better measure the blinding verse.
When we acclimate, our eyes can see
new vistas and views that we never knew
while peering timidly from amidst the pews.
Who knew just how much there was to miss?
Who knows what delights await us
further up amidst the mist
that just barely kisses our brow
that we didn’t recognize until now
was further up the clouds?
From humble roots in troubled ego’s earth
to vines reaching into the skies divine,
we are all each Jack and Jills
climbing our own reality bean stalks,
constantly worried about the Fee Fi Fo Fum
we’ve been told to be ready to run from.
Listen, I’m not saying these giants and monsters of reality don’t exist.
I’m just saying the times we really are in the twist
are rare, and when they are there,
if we’ve tuned into ourselves,
we won’t be caught frozen like deer in Death’s hoary glare. 💀
The same instincts that have us stretch and grow
are also the same that will let us know
when true danger is waiting for us, club in tow.
In those cases, we all listen to our gut
and play our best whack-a-mole run,
but these times are rare,
and you’ll know when you’re there.
For now, remember that Jack did indeed
escape the giant’s belly greed
and actually brought the giant crashing down
and took the bully’s treasure in storied deed.
So maybe the message is — when the giant’s shadow is upon you, good!
Dance amongst its shadow,
head to the cliff’s edge in a daring adventure,
and reap that dumb brute’s treasure.
Perhaps the danger is part and parcel to life’s true nature.
Now go and climb your bean stalk!
See what you see.
Giants or not, we’ll be glad to see each other climb
and become who we can only dream now we’ll be.
