Categories
Poetry

The Eyes Of Others

She is the golden skin

by lamplight.

She is not the beauty

they see

in her face,

her eyes,

her hair.

She is glorious

alone.

Without the eyes of others.

Categories
Poetry

For Now

In a world of fire, I am the stream.

Peace.

My heart wants nothing more, my soul wants nothing less.

I am tired.

So tired of the saddest story: well meaning fighters, fighting for good, creating the worst kind of bad.

I am tired.

Of the battle.

I do not need you to fight for me,

and they do not need you to fight for them

because those of us who have been broken are the wisest of souls.

We do not need to be saved.

We need peace.

We all need

peace.

War is what we have.

For now.

Photo by Aleksey Kuprikov on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Isn’t It Funny

Isn’t it funny

that for a moment

you forgot how wonderful you are.

Sweet, dancing sunshine.

Isn’t it funny.

Photo by Rodolfo Quiru00f3s on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Permission

The song of this heart

sings

without

permission.

Categories
Life

Wildfire

I am a wildfire.

Where the flames fan wide

and the blue ripples split

the deep orange stream.

I cannot control what is wild and free.

I cannot control

a wildfire

like me.

Categories
Poetry

Tomorrow’s Sweet Sun

How sweet it is, dear life.

To choose better, without handing a cup of pain to another.

To know my worth and to ask equal to its value without hesitation: a true gift from the whirling, twirling invisible world of all.

I have a choice, is what life has shown me. To kindly and carefully choose a brighter day. To say thank you but no, this does not work for me.

To seek compromise fairly

or else

gracefully capture

tomorrow’s sweet sun.

Categories
Life

Fly Free

Fly free,

sweet bird,

from the spiral mind

that cages

and twirls you.

You are beautiful

always.

How funny

that you sometimes

forget.

woman at the beach feeding the birds
Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

Dear Heart

Dear heart,

thank you.

For singing to me

the beauty of my soul.

And having me believe

every sweet sound of it.

Categories
Life

Who I Am

Do not tell me to be another version of me.

That I should be everything a lady should be, that I must grasp a handful of gravel without leaving a crumbling trail of dust behind.

I am human.

Dust, I know, will always fall.

And so I will take the gravel, and hold it as I do. See me. Watch with curiosity the hand that scoops and claims the fragile dust of the earth like no other.

For I am who I am.

I am. Who I am.

Categories
Life

Fire

What do you want me to be?

I can be that, for a moment, a day

a lifetime;

I can be your sun.

Shining in all the places that make

you

feel more,

and me

feel less

than the blazing fire

that I am.