Categories
Poetry

Ballerina

I was a ballerina in a past life.

Of course, I can’t be certain.

But as I look in the mirror,

lift my arms, tilt my neck—

I know this place,

this grace.

And sometimes I wonder why.

person wearing ballet shoes
Photo by Kuya Yus on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Human Unplugged

It’s never an even road.

Life.

To lose yourself

in great chunks of confusion.

To take to the floor,

to scrape at the earth

for answers.

I am love, this I know.

I am peace, this I know.

But I am also a silent mess

of human unplugged,

gasping for air

just like the rest.

We are broken,

and we break others.

We blame

but we are to blame, ourselves.

When will the circle

find it’s neat and tidy

end?

When will the circle find it’s neat and tidy end.

Categories
Life

Alone

Sometimes, I feel alone.

Even when I’m surrounded by people…

I’m not really.

I’m alone, drifting in a rose coloured world of wonder.

I’m not sad about it— feeling alone, that is.

It’s a beautiful place, this world I live in.

I’m just saying:

The world of a dreamy, wide-open soul is sometimes lonely.

Wonderous.

But lonely.

In this world, I sometimes feel like a teeny tiny sailboat trying to float in an ocean of mud and I wonder: ‘Where are the other boats like me?’

Maybe one day I’ll find them.

Maybe one day there’ll be more boats like me.

Maybe.

One day.

photo of people on rowboat during sunset
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com