Categories
Poetry

The Wind

Oh, but darling.

The wind will take you, anyway.

Ain’t no fighting the wind, darling.

Ain’t no fighting the wind.

Categories
Poetry

The Next Step

I have spent so much time

searching for the next step,

and yet

the next step

has always been taken.

With no need to search.

Categories
Life

Sitting Up Here

Maybe I’m sitting in a tree, somewhere, looking down at it all. I’m sure my feet are dangling, and I’m probably whistling in harmony with the wind through the branches.

What do I see when I look down at my life? I see myself sitting quietly at a little white desk, typing away, visualising a peaceful version of myself up there.

Peaceful me would look down at the small children running circles around the house, see me wincing at the too many seconds of loud for comfort and she’d send a little caring my way. An invisible hug, maybe. Whatever I might need to soothe me.

She’d also look down and see me laughing to the point of holding my belly. The six-year-old. The most HILARIOUS trick anyone has ever played on me. He’s managed to pull it off, and I highly doubt he’ll be able to top such brilliance in both wit and execution again, but I’ll remain on guard, just in case. Peaceful me would know that’s the first time I’ve laughed like that in a long, long time.Then she’d send a great big smile my way.

Peaceful me would see the good and bad of it and whisper to me: it’s all good.

It’s all good.

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Loveliness

Ah, the loveliness.

There it is again.

As smooth as the drifting river,

as quiet as the song of a mother

to the sky.

Lovely loveliness.

The sweetest of all the dreams.

Categories
Poetry

How Lovely

How lovely.

The wind of peace.

Here.

Now.

My

how lovely.

Categories
Healing

Escaping

I never did stop escaping. A sensitive little girl, a face and a voice unkind: I escaped. I never did stop escaping.

*

I am safe and loved in this place in the sky. I am safe. And I am loved, so loved, without a thought, without a care. I am me, and this is the sky. We are here. We are here.

*

I never did stop escaping. All around the children played. They showed me their world, and I made it what I needed it to be. I made it magic and I made it kind. They didn’t know their world was magic and kind. I did. I knew.

*

This is where my real friends live, where my heart lives. I can make the world what I wish it to be, here. The unkind of the outside feels like ice on my skin. I wish only for sun. I ask only for sun.

*

I never did stop escaping. They called me names, they spat on me, and for those moments I was there. But I never did stop escaping. I never did stop escaping.

*

This is where I am. This is me, so beautifully. The deepest ocean, the saddest stream. This is where I am.

*

I never did stop escaping.

Photo by Julia Volk on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

The Clouds

Somewhere in the clouds

is where you will find me.

Am I broken,

or am I just me?

Floating,

somewhere beyond the day.

Floating,

not quite flying away.

As humanity goes,

I am far from normal,

and yet I’d not trade a cloud

for a rock, and a chance to be

normal.

What is normal?

What is this broken world

asking me to be?

Categories
Poetry

Fly Away

Here I am, now.

Me.

And I fly and I fly

and I fly away, now.

Still me.

Flying, flying away.

They tell me not to fly away.

They tell me not to fly away.

Categories
Poetry

In Every Lie

There is a soft

quiet

truth

in every lie.

Categories
Poetry

The Deep Of Me

You may name it what you will.

But the ocean will always smell like

what is beneath the name.

It will always look like

what is beneath the name.

And it will always feel like my very own soul,

(the underside of my name.)

You may name us both what you will.

But the ocean will always be beyond it all.

And so will the deep of me.