[Reflection] Age of Transcendence

Why are we all so worried about getting/ being old? Signs of aging are such beautiful things – Each grey hair, wrinkle, mole, and freckle are the small evidences of wisdom we’ve received as we transcend life’s experiences; and overcome the obstacles we encounter as we journey our life paths. Embrace your age! You’re still a beautiful being, no matter what.

Impostor

Remove the mask
and away falls the fear,
the doubt, the shame
of not being “acceptable,”
of not living beyond expectation
and custom.
Shadow and pain fade to ash.
And revealed is
authenticity, validation, color, and light;
self is shining, and it isย free.
But, only in solitude –
For in society,
liberty is frowned upon;
We’re to pursue it, not possess it…
And so the mask is replaced,
self again contained.
Society smiles
and the mask does too –
but beyond it
self feels an insecure impostor.

Catnaps

A cat ponders,

with eyes squinted sagely,

and daintily tucked-under paw;

curled tail,

and inquisitive ears,

how Sol came to be

and also is

and just briefly wonders

why he is too.

Then he naps.

NuBeing

Wisps of soul memory

flicker through flames of indigo.

Frequencies elevate;

Echoes of wavelength

heighten the potentiality hidden

within,

that shine through persona

like the fiery hues

of my unique pigment

immersed in the sun’s rays.

Threads of old soul

lace through the fiber of my new being.

My royalty is humble,

its raiment a bejeweled aura

adorning my crown;

Upon a quiet eye without sight

opened by its own perceived vision –

my dreams never let me forget

who my ancestry was…

My state of being

thrumming with the kindred awareness

of matrilineal Nubian vibrations.

 

Written 27 November 2018

Autumn in Rememory

The leaves shift and shimmer

at sunlight’s warm caress,

dew sheaths petals and grass blades

like the intimate embrace of a dress.

Breezes whisper through

air’s delicate fingertips,

flowing gently through and over

everything they touch –

stirring all that know them,

they carry with them

the songs of the memories

that move them.

Mischievous winds whistle past

bustling along with a clumsy grace

around the edges of nature;

Noisy and blustering,

never quite touching anything –

sweeping across and away

multitudes of things and beings

in its infinitely tangled paths.

Never about for long,

Briskly brutal admonitions

of life’s fragile fortitude.

We make roots wherever we land

as is nature’s way…

As autumn reminds

life is as a leaf,

its time here brief, yet beautiful –

Unforgotten even as it fades away…

We never are where we stay.

originally written November 4, 2018

Whimsical Logic

Took a few days off,

Now I’m back with another one off

the top of this dome,

where whimsy and logic freely foam.

Pen keys open

[the] doors to my haven.

Writing a sweet freedom;

stories of belong,

Wistful strains of home

My soul’s siren song.

Edge of Midnight

Sleep often comes as ocean

lapping gently at mind’s sand

eroding anxiety’s broken shells

as its waves bequeath tiny gifts

of tacit calm.

Unexpected treasures

root deep in consciousness;

Each breath such great freedom,

every dream requited bliss…

Waking moments are magnum opus –

humble masterpiece of joy.

And each single moment

is blessing and curse alike,

choice is Karma –

destiny its design;

I sit at midnight’s edge

watching abundant seas of cosmos

relinquish darkness

to peace.

Not Me (A Bad Day)

I’m not myself right now,

and that’s okay…

I can’t be “normal,” or “happy”

every single day.

I mean, I could try, but then on the flip –

you’d only ask me why.

I’m not me, currently –

But I’ll be fine.

I’m just warning you

not to waste my time.

The truth is,

I’m in a bad mood.

Because I’m entitled to those,

everything can’t always be hunky-dory,

I suppose.

I guess that today

is just one of those days

where I can’t get it right

no matter what anyone says.

And I don’t really care,

that feeling just isn’t “there”…

That pretending to feel something I don’t –

I’ve never been a good liar,

so I won’t.

I won’t smile, or laugh, or joke,

because I don’t have the desire to invoke

the mirth of those around me – how can I,

When [presently] I’m not even happy?

I’m not trying to be rude,

I just need time to brood.

I guess what I’m really trying to say,

is that I’m having a bad day.