Poetry
I often use poetry to navigate that space of saying things that cannot be said. Poetry is the realm of limitless. Seemingly random words fit together like puzzle pieces describing the feelings one has when they smell the first rain or view the twinkling light of the rising sun on their eye lashes. Poetry is the space of first kisses and broken hearts. It holds the space for all that we know within. Poetry is a tool for me to integrate the psycho-somatic experiences of life. Below are just a couple of my published favorites.
I don’t want to rush anything any more.
I want to walk slowly through the forest.
to run the tips of my fingers across the lips of flowers.
to fill my body with the scents of Jeffery’s sun ripened vanilla perfume.
I want to patiently watch the changing color of the ocean as the sun sinks into it. I want to service myself in that way…
soaking in…
s o a k i n g i n …
the mysteries of each and every moment.
A slow devotion to self…the medicine of a practice fully lived.
I’d like to be courted.
Not by any specific individual
By this entire Universe.
I’d like to let my stories fall to the wayside as I welcome each and every moment
innocence soaked in awe.
Deep curiosity is the breath of trusting, of unencumbered wholeness,
of receptivity, of knowing.
I’d like to listen to the songs sung,
initiating the healing of deep wounds.
The rhythm balancing what is within and without.
The willingness to listen to foreign sounds and tongues, movements, messages.
I’d like to undo.
To unravel the threads of a tightly bound knot.
Taking the time to tend to each bit of string.
bits that say giving love is giving away power
bits that say worth is measured
doubt
uncertainty
broken
Undoing the pain of a momentary lapse out
Slowly traveling in. The paths of
transformation home.
Whisper the letters on the page
pull up the ink, peeling away black stain from parchment
letters forming words
forming paragraphs
of a story rolling
across tongues and over lips.
Tell it from your heart and blood and bones.
Tell it from the space that makes it so.
Let it seep from you until all the words are gone and all that remains is the promise of everything.
Look to the left
Loud and clear ya hear?
That’s the way this needs to be
Even in the whispers
Crystal smacks of …
what I mean is what I say and I’m not going to hold back or filter or revise or do anything I don’t want to.
And you
are
welcome
for that.
Because it’s been too LONG.
Too long have I danced in this space of almost but not quite and it’s time now. Really really time.
Don Juan says it’s waiting there for me.
Left side, at the tips of my fingers with my arm extended.
Just sitting there. About the most honest thing to be. One for all and all for one.
Just sitting there. Waiting. Watching. Welcoming.
Encouraging.
Reminding.
Me ( yes me) that I am going to die and so are you (yes you) and what in the world are you going to do about it.
Well, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.
I am going to live.
Letters curling, dancing, becoming worlds
over the fertile landscape of the mouth
feeding tales woven into being…
And silence.
Spark.
Seeking something else
a stray thread
Unlike all the rest leading winding straight to the heart.
The pain brings me in in a way like no other
It tears down the illusion of structure where all that remains is the foundation.
It brings me back to remembering
…the first sip of tea after sitting
…the peace in one full conscious breath
…cool ocean water covering my skin
…bare feet on a forest floor
…the beat in my chest