Haiku 5

Help us remember

the meaning beyond the words;

Now we will be free.

 

June 26, 2016

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Carry On

Tell me

what type of wind

would have made you stay,

tempted your shallow roots to grow

and adventures to remain

silent in the mind,

considering the heart instead–

talk about vulnerability

when all you see is mastery

even a mindful soul can grow lonely

what bit of sun-dipped skin

did you need to see,

prepared to acknowledge that freedom

is free to think about

but a lifetime of hurt to know

that “fate” is just a word,

“choice” a guarantee

unlike thawed flowers in spring

you’ve uprooted–

away from my heart, from possibility

and “we” becomes “me”

I continue the journey.

 

I learn to carry on.

 

January 2, 2016

Forever Love

The final drop

in the bucket,

knowing it does not exist

that all expands

and contracts

and realizes its impermanence

simply by being free.

A free love–

it is all I could ever wish for.

..

My hands on your cheeks,

tracing your smile

and the etches of your mind

that I once thought to be unreadable

.

I want you

to flip through my pages

and learn my story,

to write it with me:

our forever love.

November 29, 2015

The Story

It’s what we write every day and, whether we are fully aware of it or not, it’s the grandest story of all:

The Story of My Life.

From the news and social media, to conversations at work and on the street, stories make up the “stuff” of our lives.  I truly believe that we are more than all of this “stuff.”  When you take it all away, there is only the simplicity of life churning away through our veins and souls, connecting us all to the universe.

And yet we still live here, on Earth.  We are always in the midst of other people and countless narratives.  We can’t just run from them.   The world will keep turning.  Even if we close off all our senses, the stories that make up society aren’t going to go away.  Yes, we can shape our personal narrative by stating: “My life is more important than my life story.” And you’d be right!  I am solidly in that camp.  But we are still responsible for our stories.

What do you tell yourself, about yourself, every day?  How do you view your relationship with others, with yourself?  Where does your self confidence fall based on these guidelines?

If I have a problem, I like to think about it in broad terms, considering the evidence of one truth versus another.  By doing so, however, I put a lot of pressure on myself (and my brain) to get it right.  As if I have all the answers!  It’s insane, and yet this pressure follows me day to day, allowing myself to identity with both intelligence and inability.  So when I ask myself the question, “Am I capable of changing how I tell my life story?” I doubt myself.

Do you have any doubts about yourself, about your abilities– about your story?

A wise friend of mine told me today that fresh starts are precious: not everyone can have them, and you can do whatever you want with them.

They symbolize ultimate freedom.

Today, as I find myself in the beginnings of another “fresh start,” I’m taking a stand.  I want to claim responsibility for telling my life story–  to the world, to others, and (most importantly) to myself.

In more ways than not, I am whatever I want to be.  I am whatever I believe myself to be.  There’s no pressure to know everything or for everything to be perfect.   But I’m the main character in this play, as well as the audience.  All I can do is balance the tragedy with the comedy and know that, in the end, my “life” under my “life situation,” my “life story,” will always be there.

***

So, hey you!  You’re a person with a story.  Go out there and write a good one.

Something Real

Compliments

of division

my life story

mingles in threads

of Catholicism

and the like

and I must stop myself

from pulling them loose.

Fighting anything

will never result

in absolution

I do not want to dismantle

the quilt;

I just want to prove

that it is nothing more

than patchwork.

Positive energy

can be difficult to gather

when your tribe has only consisted

of society and people living on the line

of nothing more than muddled minds–

it’s a connection that never lasts.

Instead of fabrication

I seek connection to nature’s past,

present and future,

the fact that the present

is the only reality that can turn us inwards

face us homewards

we are all connected by something greater:

Being, love– they live inside of us.

Religion crumples before it,

nationalities will laugh,

countries torn by economic mishap

and strife will fall to their knees

when we realize that the external fight

will never result in internal freedom.

I do not want to destroy a notion;

I just want to shine light on the beauty

of something real.

August 23, 2015

Too

“You’re independent,”

my crush told me,

my date for the evening.

“You’re a free spirit,”

my friend told me,

pushing up his glasses

with a touch of a finger.

I do not “love” either

of them, but I did love

the words they saw in me

between my collar bones

and within my eyes,

not past my shoulder

and out the door.

I would marry a man

that told me this–

tells me this four years later.

He would look at me,

straight into my soul

and say, “You can make it

on your own–

but I want to be there, too.”

 

June 6, 2014