Hush the ‘symphony of others’ within,
and you will finally hear the glorious rumble
of a drum called ‘you’.
Categories
Tag: Inner Peace
Show people
that love is the better option.
Always.
Categories
And So It is
Life is all the beautiful things.
Because my every day starts with a promise.
To shine up my heart,
and to just know that all the happy will find me.
And so it is.
Categories
This Bliss
This bliss
is born of a brave and steady heart;
a choice
to flow with the sugar
and
the spice:
the mystery of all that I am.
This bliss
has been warming beneath trembling soil;
lifetimes of wanting for something other.
This bliss
searches no more
for a girl called ‘me’.
Categories
The Land In-between
The matrix rages beneath the skin and I am trapped.
So this is the land in-between.
The rose unfurls beneath a skin that longs to fall,
yet the chipped paint of a girl gone by
tethers me to yesterday.
A day I no longer choose.
Absolute quiet awaits behind the curtain of truth.
Bliss calls, and yet the world of illusion screams
so that always I must return.
I ask them: ‘where is home?’
and they ask me where I think I am
if I am not already home.
Who else knows the light behind these eyes?
Who else feels the rose opening within,
when so many see only a garden of falsehoods;
of black and white;
of right and wrong;
of normal,
of insane?
The river rolls on
and asks me to believe in home.
The place beyond the in-between
is home.
I don’t know how I know.
I just know.
Categories
Facing the Truth
I stopped
and I said to myself:
I am in pain.
I did not try to hide it.
Or justify its reasons.
I did not try to pretend
the hurting wasn’t there,
or as true as it truly was to me.
For a moment I looked around
for the escape I’d always looked for.
The rug to hide all the knowing beneath.
The rug of make believe: the chance
to believe that the pain did not exist.
But it did.
It lived in my heart.
And though I wanted it to leave…
I let it be.
And I knew it was okay
not to shine it away
with my sun.
When I felt
the stuck of you,
I knew you needed
to move.
The mud in the air around you
as you tap
tap
tapped away
told the story of a stuck girl.
Getting the job done,
wishing you were anywhere else
but there.
I supposed
you must have spent days,
weeks,
months or years,
longing to flow
like the river you were born to be.
But instead,
you’ve been there.
In a state that outgrew you
long ago.
I wish I could tell you:
it’s okay to move.
Categories
True Colour
We stand together
observing a leaf
as it floats in the pond
of life.
We watch its path
together,
and yet our eyes will
never
know the same leaf.
And isn’t
that
the true colour
of life.
When I cry,
I melt all the pieces
of you
in me,
and we flow into the world
like the beautiful river we are,
once again.
Categories
Fragile Beautiful
The same pattern repeated itself over and over, in various ways.
And with each new scenario of social anxiety, a sense of unconscious shame was born and continued to grow.
I should have been able to call my friends without worrying that someone other than my friend would answer— we were teenagers. No one else my age seemed to have a problem with calling their friends. Everyone else was normal. (I wasn’t very normal at all.)
I should have been comfortable going to a new parents group to chat and compare notes over coffee— I’d had thirty-something years to learn how to be confident. Everyone else was crying out for a group to support them. (I was crying out for an excuse not to go.)
I was too sensitive. I was too weak. And because I was weak…I was ashamed of this me person who seemed somehow broken compared to the normal people who were unafraid of all the things that frightened me.
Bugger-that.
How beautiful fragile I am.
How beautiful fragile I always have been.
Me who loves like the deepest ocean.
Me who was made this way so I could translate my heart into words.
So I could play and sing, and feel my music, not just hear it.
I was made this way because I was made this way.
Because I am fragile beautiful.
Because I am fragile-beautiful-me.
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