All

It’s all about leaning forward.

 

In the moments fear grabs your neck like a thief

and you don’t know where you belong–

the sky or the ground–

realize that all we can do is lean into the moment.

 

It’s all about being honest with yourself,

about yourself.

 

In the times joy cradles you in their arms

like a newborn child

know that you, too, can rest–

realize that you, too, are safe as long as you exist.

 

It’s all about loving yourself,

the darkness and the light.

 

Society comes up with names for every game we play,

whether it’s in our head and back again

the way we look up at skyscrapers and billboards

beach walkways and desert islands

your children are my children

we are all of the same skin

just let me in on the secret of sin

there’s no winning or losing,

there’s just where you are

and where you’ve been

in these bodies we pray

these genes aren’t moving today

they’ve taken up residence for a reason

in an effort to survive despite the season

trust in your Self, above all else

no matter what name you’ve learned,

you are here Now,

so love all of your Self,

not just some.

 

April 10, 2016

One for Love

A gentle tap.

A slight placement

of a hand,

carefully, on my back.

Eyelids perched

on radiant,

story-layered skin.

The sound

of your kiss

like the rain;

the taste

of your breath,

a summer wind.

Your gaze

tells me you have

everything,

right here.

I trace your lips

to remind you

I am

only extra.

 

January 27, 2016

Teacher

In times

of good

and bad

I let nature

be my teacher.

 

One leaf

sways

as gently

as a summer song,

not so I can sing along–

but to remind me

that I belong

in these last pieces

of greenery,

they are not simple

scenery

they are our home

a good climb upon a hill

does more for me

than an hour in mass,

sings me back the source

layered in my own skin

not to spite religion

but society warms itself

on separation,

these leaves

that sway

sing songs of connection

of life

that will stand

long after we fall–

no human controls all.

 

Instead I open up

my window,

lean into the wind

and listen.

 

January 10, 2016

The Return

The

extraordinary

powers

of letting go,

magic

of feeling pen

on paper skin–

we are all

cut out dolls

made with razor sharp scissors

let me

let go

and make my art the way I want to.

 

I will whisper away

those sad navy blues

and caress them with specks of gold

found only at the bottom of the ocean–

a place

where all artists can drop their ink

and return

home.

 

December 4, 2015

Is there another way

I just want to be honest

here–

who wouldn’t want equality?

 

Who wouldn’t want to know

that your skin is tied to mine

and that all unknowns

competition bred

can be flushed out of our pores,

one last time,

in search of a brighter,

more natural glow?

 

Who wouldn’t want to spread love

instead of greasy, sweat shop-made

greed spiraling into a system

we have known for so long

that some seem to think it’s “normal”?

 

If empty hearts are all to be had

then lead me to an ocean,

lead me to a forest

to learn from the only souls

that know how to rise and fall,

listen and insist on Being

and nothing short of it.

 

Let the waves rise

and teach me the strength found in freedom;

let the leaves fall

and show me, effortlessly, how beautiful it can be

to let go.

 

November 22, 2015