Pen and Paper

The connection

of paper on pen

makes me want

to believe again

in life,

in love.

 

If two souls

can touch

so silently

and still leave

such a mark,

what is to come

of us, my dear?

 

I can deny fate

like sinners laugh at God;

I can wake at dawn

and see only moon, not sun.

 

We can wander forever,

looking for the ink–

the touch of pen on paper,

a love that saves, not sinks.

 

November 5, 2015

My Mind

At times,

I feel nervous–

nervous that it

is stronger than me.

*

It can make any situation into a problem,

labeling itself a “worry wart”

(and who would ever want to be a wart?)

this is my fear:

*

It will change my relationships

it will tarnish my career

it will make all the beauty I’ve felt inside of me

feel meaningless.

*

It is crazy to think I’m not alone.

*

The truth is that beauty is eternal,

and my mind

will never be stronger than my presence,

patient like a willow

it will flow in the breeze,

follow me step by worry torn step

relaxing my insides,

releasing the mountain of love

that lives inside my chest–

it lives in all of us.

*

Sometimes,

I read quotes;

maybe they will make me feel “better”

maybe they will “fix” my mind–

I know only I can.

*

At all times,

I know there is timelessness,

the truth,

our only savior,

waiting for my heart to forgive my head,

catch up with my soul,

and allow myself

to lay,

still.

*

September 20, 2015

Bein vulnerable on this Sunday.  Peace and love. ❤ 

Come Meet Me

Come

meet me,

and all the other

voices that live

inside your head.

……

I am no more.

…..

You will listen and

listen

and listen

but you will create no more.

….

You can write about fear

You can look at it

straight in the face

Your ability to heal is profound.

..

Today is only today:

pure, empty, simple–

like your body,

your mind

.

Our souls, roaming this world,

uniting our light with that of the universe.

June 9, 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

A Damaged Heart

A damaged heart is utterly prophetic,

isn’t it?

 

All of its piles of bandaging,

miles of weak needle and thread

rushing off into an oblivion

we do not yet know is just

the journey of our souls.

 

It is the clearest paradox:

with its burden, one can see the world

clearly, unbiasedly real

and yet the world would not exist

if not for our experiences, they are

synonyms, of course,

thrown on to our ragged bones

and go ahead– douse your heart

with as many tears as needed

for the time you cannot handle

being alone,

let alone broken.

 

May 4, 2014

Tomorrow

It approaches

with sunset

into dawn,

 

the world turning

to glance at the mess

we have made

over sands and waters,

mountains of desolation

in minds wondering,

“How did we get here

and how do we get out?”

 

Confounding nature

made of sure-tell signs

that being

is just as glorious

as building a bridge

to the next skyscraper.

 

When will the sky fall?

 

Or will it only cry,

punctured by structures

not even the human soul

can dance through?

 

August 10, 2014