Falling from the stars
halfway to your heart.
Bury what does not serve
a useful purpose.
Haiku your words
if brevity is the soul you are seeking.
Fall in love with eyes pitchforked towards the moon.
Those are the eyes that scrape the sky
and dare to go beyond the dream.
That dare to peel unraveled, prickled layers of life
like a sweet cipollini or a loosely threaded ball of string.
Strings are the things that connect us.
Why do I run from connections?
Is it like the gentle rain or a tsunami and I am afraid of getting drenched?
Why do I imagine everyone will stampede from drowning in my pain
just because I’ve been fleeing it a lifetime?
Fear is what impedes me,
what propels me, like a shot of fueled adrenaline.
Fear can make or break you,
trust that you may be defined by your response to fear.
I hold my windmilled anxiety deep within me,
so afraid to unleash or release the kracken,
so afraid to fall in between the cracks in the pavement,
terrified to let anyone see me so broken.
What will it take to bring me courage to face
the spaces in between the shadows and the light,
to face the unknown? Meanwhile, I am bundled up
in my body armor and have my poetry to keep me warm,
my eyes pitchforked to the magnetic stars and the unquenchable moon.
My fears
falling gently from the stars
halfway to your heart.
Grace notes: Good or bad, I am not afraid to expose my authentic fears. And I can spend hours sitting on my porch when weather permits, or by my window, gazing at the sky and meditating. It seems to provoke thoughts, bring me peace and inspiration for my head and my poetry. Do you have a meditation ritual? I’d love to hear in the comments.
© Connie Song 2024. All Rights Reserved.
