New Eyes

Some days, my head and heart are tired

They’ve seen and felt enough

Colors ping off my retinas with loud cymbal crashes

People, too sharp and out of focus, clamor into my vista

Sounds are the last flare lit on a pitch black night

Blazingly bright like the sun

Settling down to a soft glow as the last embers burn out

Breathe in

Breathe out

Press tightly to the temple

Now begins a silence of sight

Retreat into the calm waters of the mind’s lagoon beckons me

I follow the tug to be still

A numbing exhaustion settles in the void of cues

Gently, a current passes through the reeds

Things can be felt without being known

No bombardments

The pleasure of blankness, a comfort

Rest

Float

Suspend animation

I become slumber-stilled, swaying with the flow of crests and swells

After a time, movement in the depths below stirs me

The almost invisible jostling continues, until awareness returns

Focus can be attained without repercussions

The water is receding

Silence has followed me out of the deep, but blindness has not

A dimmer turns up the volume and the low hum is acceptable

A verdant forest appears, with a well worn and strangely familiar path guiding my steps

The small details of my trail provide many facets for my new eyes to study

Have I been here before?

Could that blade of grass really be this green?

How many centuries old is this live oak?

Do any creatures survive on the existence of this Spanish moss?

Into a clearing the soft pine needle covered track leads me

A small door is free-standing in the center; closed, but not locked

Where does this lead?

Do I cross over the unknown threshold?

Hesitation makes the substance of the door appear to become transparent

The particles are slowly losing their hold on one another

I must choose!

Stay in the peaceful solitude and–only now–what looks to be isolated terrain

Or, take a risk to see what lies beyond

Who lies beyond

Another moment longer and the choice will be made for me

Gathering my courage, I grasp the rounded handle before it disintegrates

It is not cold, as I expected

It is warm and hums with life

Turning the knob slowly, I feel the beat of a faint drum in my fingertips

Ba dum… Ba dum… Ba dum

When the door creaks as I push it open, I realize it is not a drum

My heart is beating straight into the core of the door frame

At the halfway point, the doorway is widening and a figure is barely visible in the hazy light spilling forth from an unknown source

At my entry into its space, it turns to see what or who has disturbed it

Who is turning to greet me?

I am so anxious to see

Do I know this person?

I finally see…

Me

“Hello, friend. I’m so glad you decided to join me. Welcome to your life. I hope you enjoy it.”

I am scared, but I welcome me into a warm embrace

Perhaps, this could be good

Advertisements

Slayer

Oh, you slayer
Flaying me open
Ripping my heart right out
Holding tight with your realness
Making me see the terror of unlove
The trembling caress of thine worst enemy
Indifference pales in comparison to

This
Slow
Death

To nothing
Immobilized by the nothing

(A/N: This poem was inspired by one written by a friend of mine, brazenescape. Truly beautiful.)

Bound

Loose ties are all you know
I can see how it shows
You are not floating on the breeze
Anymore
I am the tree taking back all my leaves
I’m taking back all my leaves

I’m gonna be the one to bind us
I’m gonna be the great collide
I’m gonna bring love to surround us
I’m gonna stand up and decide
Stand up and realize
We are one
We are not each alone

The ebb flows through you and me
Bringing you back into my sea
You are not a vessel cast ashore
Anymore
I am the moon calling you with my tides
I’m calling you with my tides

I’m gonna be the one to bind us
I’m gonna be the great collide
I’m gonna bring love to surround us
I’m gonna stand up and decide
Stand up and realize
We are one
We are not each alone

Release the fear in your woes
Let it go, let it go
You are forgiven, please don’t cry
Anymore
I am compassion bringing peace to your soul
I’m bringing peace to your soul

I’m gonna be the one to bind us
I’m gonna be the great collide
I’m gonna bring love to surround us
I’m gonna stand up and decide
Stand up and realize
We are one
We are not each alone

I’m gonna be the one to bind us
I’m gonna be the great collide
I’m gonna bring love to surround us
I’m gonna stand up and decide
Stand up and realize
We are one
We are not each alone

We are bound, and not alone

(A/N: This is a song I wrote several years ago after connecting for the first time with some of my biological siblings. The words were inspired by feelings of disconnectedness I hadn’t realized were a big part of the background noise of my mind until I found my sisters and brother. Which is not how I expected to feel, because my family is the most loving and supportive group of people I could hope to have in my corner. The message is a sort of treaty with myself and with anyone who feels lost. Dedicated to my birth mother.)

Trust is a Fragile Creature

I observed an interaction in a coffee shop today which caused me to think about the amount of trust we have for the people we meet everyday — random strangers. We seem to extend around those in our vicinity a bubble of faith that we will not be hurt or made to feel less of ourselves in their presence. While we may not realize we leave our hearts open to whatever may come at us, it becomes obvious we have done it as soon as we have been dealt the blow which bursts that bubble.

A man in his mid-thirties was waiting for his coffee order to be completed, and the young barista (she couldn’t have been over 20 years old) filling his order was staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and contemptuous recognition. The man, absorbed in his phone, did not notice her until she announced his drink was ready. She handed it over the counter and hesitated, but seemed determined to voice what was on her mind.

“Do you have a brother?” she inquired of him as he glanced up to take his coffee from her. He paused in making his reply, and in the gap of silence he allowed to form, she took the opportunity to give him a surly look along with a teenager-worthy eye-roll. Clearly, she did not think well of this supposed brother. The man realized what he chose to reveal about his family would ultimately lead to his ease or discomfort during this interaction.

He seemed to steel himself and quietly answered, “Yes, I have two brothers.” The barista’s eyes widened fractionally and she was quick to come back with, “Is one of your brothers named Jerry?” He looked at her with one raised eyebrow, and a slight smirk, possibly expecting this name to fall from her lips.

His reply came slowly, “As a matter of fact, yes. Why do you ask?” The young woman crossed her arms and stood with one hip cocked to the side, a clear position of defense. “You look like him. He caused my mother quite a lot of trouble last year.” At this, the man’s expression softened, but he held caution in his words, perhaps to protect himself from whatever wrath this young woman would bear for him, despite his not being the offending brother, undeserving of her animosity.

“I don’t talk to Jerry much,” he said in another attempt to put distance between his brother’s actions and his own, “I’m sorry he hurt you.” He nervously fidgeted with his coffee cup, detaching and reattaching the plastic lid while he awaited her response. The barista looked down for a moment, seeming to decide if she would hold this man accountable for his brother’s misdeeds.

Her eyes flicked back up to his, and with aplomb, decided he was not his brother. “Well, that’s over now. We’re glad he’s gone out of our lives.” The man smiled gently in sympathetic understanding. He sighed in relief; the conversation had passed without injury to either party.

He shook off the somber tone of their emotional ordeal with a bit of levity, chuckling out, “You didn’t spit into this coffee, did you?” The young woman uncrossed her arms and reached out across the counter in supplication, “No! I would never…” she replied emphatically. He seemed to accept her answer with a smile and turned to leave on his way. She called out to him, “Thanks, Mister!” Adding an air of finality to the encounter, he raised his arm above his head without turning back and gave a short flick of his wrist as if to say, “‘Tis nothing.”

With his departure, the barista went back to serving the next customer in line, smiling with a brighter shine in her eyes, seemingly relieved of a long-standing burden.

The encounter took no more than 45 seconds, yet it was a big moment. It held reign over my thoughts for the remainder of my afternoon there, sipping my hot chocolate. The amount of trust he had given her to be someone who would leave him in the state he arrived to enjoy his coffee was never more apparent until the second he hesitated to answer her first question; the fear of what came next flaring in his eyes. The bubble dispersed around him as though dissolved by acid rain: quickly; harshly. It returned, strengthened before my eyes, when she allowed him to pass her examination of his worth with no marks or punctures to the exoskeleton erected around him as she dismantled his trust.

We all go through this dance many times per day without even realizing it.

How many exoskeletons did you form, today?

Ingrained

Created is the thing within us which, tumbling through our spirit day after day, gains a life of its own quelling and quenching its thirst by the very nature of its purpose.

A thought, unbidden in the dark. A
glimmer of a truth, unknown. Taking shape in smoke and breath, it grows. Seeking that which brings it life.

Hope, ever insidious, allows a wisp of yearning to rise up, bringing the very soul to the brink of belief. Belief in the possibility of birth.

Belief in a light we can barely see amidst the darkness; a light illuminating all the hearts of those around us, joining us in timeless beams of effervescence.

Pairing and grouping and swirling to homogenize the lot. As one, our hearts grow and flourish, bringing our best, holding fast to the love we desperately need to give and receive.

Through this melding, we learn how much more we can become.

We realize we have limitless possibilities.

We ingrain this truth in our existence, in our speech and deeds and finally, in our children, to allow this thought to spark, as each generation passes.

Love is ingrained in all we have done, do, or ever will be.

My First Post!

I’ve been sitting on this empty blog for about a year now, working up the courage to post something. I read and enjoy many authors here and I give them my time and some have heard my thoughts and my personal journey. I always think, “I can try that,” or “Something I have to say seems important,” but I never make the final leap.

Well, here I am. Leaping.

I’m not sure what this blog may end up being about, and I am okay with that.

I just live in the place in my soul where I need words. Words feed me.

Now I’m going to try to feed some others.

A poem about my love affair:

With Words We Wear Whole Worlds

Words make us ponder, wonder, and wander
We fly through ages on very bright pages
With many breaths taken; each consonant awakens
Our way along the paved path as phantoms chase our very last

Moments in words

Do we dare to move beyond the tale?
Do our lives become richer as past comparisons pale?
Is there new beginning waiting for our yield?
Do we have any choice but to be the instrument it’ll wield?

Moments in words

Thanks for taking this leap with me.

Meadow