I want to revel in my introversion forever,
I want my quiet nature and simple heart beat
to spread itself in the wind,
tracing my toes and sweeping my hair back
I need not be ashamed
that my peoples’ place in history
is rarely one of the well known, public speaker–
ironically we can relish in the solitude of being unknown
Modesty is our finest cloak,
ready to take on the trail
Life: it is not a game,
not a show,
there is no reason to speak so loud
The silence pours through me in buckets,
and I’m reminded that in this time,
at all times, it is okay to be me,
a porcelain doll
not afraid of getting some dirt on her
with bracelets of stone
reminding me of where I really come from.
Life is art; we are such a simple part.
Do not hate; find your confidence elsewhere.
There is nothing we own; leave your selfishness
home at the table.
The wood I see is layered with light,
bark, leaves and sky
I bow down to you and nothing else.
My love knows Muir so well,
that even in a city I could joyfully write
about daffodils in spring,
in a park where it is sunny,
and I can be nothing but quiet.
June 14, 2015