Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Water

Each drop of water is precious,

Each has been here before.

Every drop of water is timeless,

they are souls that return again and again

not to the worlds they know,

but to the worlds they are, that are within them.

Always here, whether as rain, dew, lake, ocean, sea –

Whether they fall from the heavens

or spring up from the Earth; gather as bodies,

or in pools…

They know not what they are,

only that they are –

And all are just one form of the same being.

As are we –

We are each every one of these drops of water,

as infinite, as vast as the Universe.

Contained in a single form, and yet…

without form at all.

We are always here, we always return.

We are always transforming, evolving, changing all we touch

changed by all that touches us.

Every phase, every cycle water flows through

are also ours too.

All part of the entire Universe

as much as it is not just part of us; it is us.

We hold the memories of water,

because we are the memories, just as it is the memories

of us.

We are not all different, not so much as we like to believe;

We simply are.

We are one and we are the same –

I am you, are he, is she, is they, are them, are we,

part of the same whole, created from the same love;

Freedom is our destiny, even as destiny lives in our freedom.

Still, despite our [separate] perceived bodies,

interconnectedness is our truth, as our existence brings life

to the world it finds itself in, and the spaces it occupies –

Because we don’t live in the world;

The world lives

in us.

 

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Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Shadows

I think I’m ready now
to face down my shadows;
The ones that burrow deep
and that I attempt to run and hide from
even in my sleep.

I’m not afraid of what they’ll reveal,
not even fearful of what they’ll make me feel.
I don’t  worry about how they’ve marred my soul –
I determined long ago
I’ve never really been completely whole.

But;
That can change,
admitting this even now feels incredibly strange.

I moreso fear they’ll tell me
what I’m sure I mostly always knew,
that I self-sabotage; spiritually self-harm,
to avoid success and its extolling due;
That I also abhor failure, too…
Though I learn(ed) from my many mistakes,
I most often fear never quite having “what it takes.”

They’re gonna expose my flaws and faults
in their rawest form,
they’ll shatter my guards
and I have to look into my own eyes
the(se) tempests of my soulstorms –
admit to all the lies
I told me –

Admit that even though I so clearly see
my own pain and sorrow,
my tidsoptimistic nature
said I could deal with it all tomorrow.
Though that “tomorrow” never came,
I’ve been delaying my own destiny
to save face; to hide shame; to not fight; to own blame.

My shadows are all the pieces of me that  never got the chance
to shine,
that were gradually dulled and covered over with the scabs
of time.
Lackluster shells of former selves
discarded and left to rot
on dusty, forgotten shelves.

I know they question me, my ego –
ask why it was so easy for us to so quickly
let them go
so far away, and so further deep –
to fester and grow;

My only answers as of now
are tears, and…
Well, I honestly don’t know.

But fear can no longer reside here
and must be released,
to once and for all answer to me
the key to unlocking my own peace –
The ultimate goal I wish to exceed.

Yeah, I’m ready now…

Maybe, all this time,
I just never knew or acknowledged how
strong I’ve always been;

And just maybe,
multihandedly denying my own strength
has been my greatest sin.

 

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Posted in life, Self-discovery and growth, Thoughts and Ruminations

Vulnerable

I think I like most of the things about myself

that I say out loud I don’t –

I self-deprecate to deflect the attention

that part of me actually secretly desires but that I also

hope happens organically;

I haven’t figured out how to do that

so instead I just push it all away.

And I wish I could just…tell people this,

but so discouraged are we

from saying what we truly feel,

disconnected from ourselves

lost in the “perfection” we portray.

I think that not many hold space for vulnerability

because we also have trouble being vulnerable

with ourselves.

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Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Colorblind

Purging myself of all my emotions

seeing my thoughts splayed against

a page

in black and white

reminds me of all the gray areas

my grey matter thinks into

and that life itself isn’t black and white.

Facts and logic and also matters of heart

do intersect and their encounters

birth intuition.

Maybe I do spend too much time

in my own head

but ideas aren’t passive

and are most often conceived from the colors found

in the blazes

of innovation’s dying phoenix.

Life’s gray areas are simply

the  colors we’re blind to

until we open our seeing eyes.

 

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Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Sungazing

Two universes collide

before my crossed, unblinking eyes –

saw golden haloes of light

surrounding everything in sight.

Energy rises,  like smoke, like sun

like the steam from my skin when my shower

is done.

I felt calm, at peace

mind, spirit, heart, body, soul – at ease.

Aligned, balanced, separate growth

expanding my entire whole.

Birds flew close,

frolicked near my feet;

Squirrels bandy unexpected gifts

from the trees to my seat.

For once, I  didn’t need a camera

to  capture this scene

imprinted on  my consciousness

replaying in my thought stream –

watching chakras glow and dance

Chi infused with gathering aura, potential

possibility; romance.

I watched a ladybug tiptoe among leaves and grass

flitting past my nose softly

into nature’s morass.

Thanks to the Universe,

gratitude to Earth Mother;

realizing further interconnectedness

so much more to discover.

Done being told

my own beauty isn’t mine to behold

when I just experienced a joy so precious

my heart overflows.

The simple grace in just being

both humbling  and freeing…

Releasing breath gently as I

return the Sun’s warm, encompassing gaze

The wonders of  innerstanding

never cease

to amaze.

Posted in life, Poetry, Random, Self-discovery and growth

Cosmic Wilds

Rat-a-tat-chatting with my inner Divine
wanting to innerstand my perception(s)
of time.
Stories of past lives swirled among my
consciousness –
sudden actualization.
Overstanding Time not as a measurable unit
or concept,
but as a living entity that exists
to record each moment
as they happen to be…
Time doesn’t move;
it is perfectly still.
So that it can catch and cradle
each uniquely crafted occurrence and memory
as they hurtle  through the cosmic wilds of multiversed
spacetime.
They are the stories written across our stars.
I felt a great sigh shiver along my snynapses
and She said, “If you don’t stay focused; this world is gonna pass right by you.”
Suddenly, I was back in my bedroom, remembering I only
came in here to refill my favorite lighter.

 

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Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth, Thoughts and Ruminations

Unlimitations

I realize I too often limit myself only

to my words and actions

and capabilities;

And that expanding my mind

is the way to break free.

But sometimes, I’m good where I’m at…

and isn’t that as much a part of being

who I am

as at any other distinct point in time?

I often think that

being still

or even refusing to move

has saved my life on many

an occasion.

 

09 December 2020
Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Imposture

Can’t keep up,

can’t back down –

Speak optimistically

internally I frown

because maybe I’m doing too much,

though it feels I do little;

As such,

I quickly lose focus

and get to feeling quite bogus.

All of this feels…wrong

I feel like I just don’t belong:

Not even wanting to fit in

I just want to celebrate

my small wins…

Instead of beating myself up for

not conquering the entire mountain.

Scaling for score;

Still feeling there should be more.

Either something’s missing

Or I’m missing something.

Trade tears

For fears

I’m posturing

to hide my bad posture…

Tripping over self-doubt

Self-confidence won’t

come into the out.

I can’t figure out why

I kill myself

hoping to die…

In competition with only me,

shadows are always hard to see.

I’ve nothing to prove

to anyone’s roster –

incessant syndrome on the move.

One day, maybe,

I’ll feel less of an

impostor.

October 4, 2020

Posted in life, love, New Work, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Identity.

Don’t call me black,

Call me by my name,

call me by my humanity.

“Black” is one of the many colors

found in the crayon box,

the ink of a pen,

the darkness of shadow;

a shade devoid of character or light –

Yet, I am full of light.

Colors are ideals driven by perception,

Color is only surface.

Pigmentation runs deep.

The green of grass and in the leaves of plants

are not surface colors.

When they get wet,

their green doesn’t wash away;

it gets brighter

it is part of them.

Strip the bark from a tree,

it’s still brown

or shades of it

because brown is within its

nature.

My pigment doesn’t wash away or rub off –

my melanin is my crowning glory.

Neither of these are identifiers –

and I’m not simply a color.

Yes, I am melanated,

But…

I am a person, a being,

of presence, of energy,

of spirit.

I am vital, valuable.

I am adequate.

I am wombman, mother,

I am love itself.

I cannot be classified,

I have class, and…

I am a class all my own.

These “identifications” only exist

to isolate me, separate me,

Invalidate me.

Don’t call me black,

Don’t call me brown,

don’t call me by what you see

on my surface.

Don’t you dare…

I’m more than just that,

I’m more than what is visible.

My layers are their own nature,

not validated simply by a color name.

They are a tangle of blood and bone,

muscle and vein,

emotion and thought…

of pain, and of love.

I bleed when I am cut

I cry when I am hurt

or happy.

I sleep when I am tired

I eat when I am hungry.

I drink when I have thirst;

I imagine, I ideate, I innovate.

I have goals and dreams.

I achieve, and I fail.

Am I so different from

any other being of humanity

that my identity

should be systematized by

a single word,

a color, no less,

a hue?

Is that all I am?

To many, maybe.

To those who know me, love me,

They understand there is more to me

than what the eye sees.

Call me by my name,

Acknowledge my identity.

Call me who I am –

Not what you perceive me as.

Posted in life, Poetry, Self-discovery and growth

Taste Knowledge

This rut I find myself in

has stolen my voice,

willpower, my freedom

of choice…

It won’t let me

ask for help

because pride won’t

recuse itself

and I’m tired.

Frustrated with  –

I’m  the only one to blame

for all the time wasted

stuck on a task

when so much new knowledge

begs to be tasted.

Tired – also, wired

I know it’s not too late

to fix this;

but time’s slowed

and feels like it’ll expire soon.

 

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