Categories
Life

Heavy

I am a child of the wind.

My bare skin knows the beauty of this life, and yet, within these soft walls, I am bare.

How heavy it is to hold this uncertain hand of mine.

Sometimes.

Photo by lil artsy on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Quietly Contemplating

I’m an explosion of heart. Tender and soft, especially of late. Quietly contemplating, missing the people I love, whispering a subtle question to the world of nothing around me.

Where am I going, and who am I? So much of me has become new. It is a sure sign that there is no fixed identity, as much as we cling to who we think we are and tell our stories until well beyond their used by date.

I nurse a quiet hope in my heart that, someday, I will have crossed a bridge between not knowing and finally knowing life and its meaning.

Life is a journey, this much I know.

Life is a teacher, of this I am also certain.

This understanding is, in itself, a beautiful thing.

Can I let go fully, though, and allow life to happen effortlessly, and without a care?

I ask the small voice of my heart, and she smiles in response.

I know nothing of what that smile means.

Not yet, anyway.

Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Sadness in The Corner

There is sadness in the corner.

A beautiful sadness that calls to me, many a day, and I can’t help but follow. I can’t help but wonder why.

When life is ever so dear, and joy is found sweetly in the eyes of the ones I love, why is the sadness in the corner? When the rest of the room is flooded with colour; the corner.

Why is it aching, why is it grey?

Whole and beautiful life is here,

but the corner.

Why is there sadness in the corner?

Photo by Vadim B on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Lonely

But I am the wind.

And my soul is alone

as it blows through the jars

of neat and tidy life.

Oh, the aching.

For, home floats free;

I will never be bound.

Can you not see?

I will never be bound.

And my heart cries,

lonely.

My heart cries.

Lonely.

Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Happy One

There is a tear in my soul.

They want me to smile,

all the time, they want me to be fine,

this world.

But I am not

(though I am.)

There is a weeping tear.

A wound unhealed and breaking

ever deeper,

every day.

I will tell you this:

I am fine.

And I am,

six colours of the rainbow, fine.

The seventh colour.

It is a golden tar.

An aching soul,

searching.

An aching child

within the hardened walls

of a happy one.

Photo by Khoa Vu00f5 on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Heaven On Earth

My soul held the music, and we were one.

There is no other way to describe it but that heaven exists on earth, and for several moments, I was there.

There is a beautiful tender song from Aladdin, where Aladdin sings about being ‘just a poor boy,’ unwanted and unloved.

When I was a child, this scene broke me in two.

It still does because it speaks to a place deep within.

A place that’s says:

Oh, my goodness, I see you.

Now, as I listen to the song there is a new sort of beauty to its lyrical tenderness.

I feel the music, it tells the story as deeply as the words.

It is as if the music itself is conscious.

It is as if the music itself cares.

The way it swells with empathy. The way it rises and falls and twists with aching.

It is heaven on earth.

And I am here, with beautiful music.

And the beautiful love it sings to me.

Photo by Steve Johnson on Pexels.com
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Kissed

How beautiful to see your tears

and know your soul

has been kissed

by music.

Day 25. Music. The true language of a soul.
Categories
Poetry

Choosing Better

The darkness of life is a wonderful teacher.

I’ve been there a time or two,

and now I say, ‘no’.

Lovingly,

with fire and ice,

I say no.

No, thank you.

No. Thank you,

no more.

Such a lovely relief,

the roaring breath of certainty.

The trust of a self who deserves better

than they have given.

My worth is here to stay.

My love is mine to give,

not theirs to take, and take

and take.

Let others play in the dark rooms of maddening life.

Let this girl fly,

a darling wonder,

into the sun beyond it all.

Safe.

Loved.

And perfectly capable of asking for love,

respect

and home.

Home.

How beautiful it feels

to finally tell them I am home.

Photo by NEOSiAM 2021 on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Soul Song

My

soul

knows

this

song.

Categories
Poetry

I Feel

My heart is open and bare,

laid out before the world again.

Their pain is mine: I give it loving arms.

I speak their truth.

I burn with mine.

They say these are words, but I know they are more.

I call them life, achingly true.

Here I am, the softest rose: bruised but sweet.

And waiting.

An open bud, thirsty for the dew.

It’s who I am, the rose, I know.

What is this dew to fall on me?

Is it love? This feeling, deep and strong.

For a world that doesn’t know itself,

a world too scared to open its heart and see?

Do not tell me I overthink.

I feel

for you.

I feel.

For humanity.

Photo by Kindel Media on Pexels.com