Quiet

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

and forth.

 

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,

lightest backpack,

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,

summer blooms,

and I can be nothing but quiet.

 

June 14, 2015