Three Parts

I.

Our hearts wide open

on the sofa, in the den,

we glide

past memories and landscapes

of lost wishes and dreams untouched–

but oh, my dear, did you touch them!

How far you ran!

How far we traveled

when home was right next door?

I can only tell you so many times

how much I love you,

mom and dad,

how much I owe to you,

my gods on Earth, my saviors

of moon and light —

of all the in-betweens and all-togethers.

Success? Winning? Acting out?

Do you remember me,

do you know me better than I do?

I am your baby bird…

and I am here, beautiful, flying…

you make money not to chase

your own dreams, but for us…

talk about pressure!

But I suppose each generation

has its shortcomings of identity

and mind that the world threw at them,

so you throw it back up,

say I’m better than you.

 

You made me.

Without your light,

I cannot shine.

 

II.

And you tell me: “What doesn’t kill you

makes you stronger.”

What if I fear I have lost part of me?

But dear…look around,

you are here,

and this is now,

and now is the Earth and time kissing

on two planes, four dimensions

that we know of, hurtling off in space

and yet perfectly safe.

This world may think its won–

they may have knocked me down–

but maybe that was not me to begin with.

You ask why I’m so quiet?

Because I’m readying up to get mad

and spread some joy around to make it better.

You told me you have some secret cure?

Cure for what? A story unfolded?

Afraid of one’s own shadow?

Or the light bouncing off your face?

Is that how trauma works?

Healing is all Earth is,

is all that’s in your blood, your muscles

and tendons and heartbeats and breaths.

I am here to guide you,

parents, elders, child.

You may see me as Father Time,

but I’ve been your mother, all along…

riding sunbeams, glorifying everything

and nothing. I am Earth.

 

III.

It’s cold in my childhood, only-home

for-a-while bedroom

and I wonder what life “should” have been…

Life sees no life without death.

I was there. I played. I fell. I rose.

I survived, god damn it.

My body and mind are still god damn

here, my spirit unbroken.

 

Sleeping, eating, breathing…honey,

you are an animal as we all are.

There are moments you must do nothing

but rest, let the Earth care for you.

You cannot take over for her.

We all know what it’s like to interrupt

the most powerful women in our lives.

This is the mother of all mothers,

life giving grace from the God

that is a woman, that is everyone in between.

You have a scary fucking story in your head,

taking over God’s role?

Hell no!

I have my dad’s wings

and my mom’s heart,

so I can keep gliding,

gliding…

 

January 4, 2019

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Rain

It’s awfully scary

to be locked up in some dark skin,

feel the twirling of your insides —

in and out

this nervous energy

is moving me —

finding a way out

is so easy

so easy

to do

I’ve heard it before

but I still feel it trickling,

tinkling,

tinkering with my mind

and reminding it of its limits.

 

Be here.

 

You know where the tension is.

 

Sit with it,

recognize it,

allow life to be as it is,

investigate with kindness,

and non-identification.

http://www.tarabrach.com/wp-content/uploads/pdf/RAIN-of-Self-Compassion2.pdf

October 9, 2017

Anxiety

When you open up about it

I’m not promising it will be easy.

.

When the air becomes thick

like white cream cheese

and you can’t simply scrape off the edges

with a knife you wonder

who else is feeling this way?

.

I thought my mother did;

but she said, “What I’m feeling is physical,”

I thought the government did;

but they said, “She’s a terrorist

and he has a mental health problem,”

I thought a suicide every thirteen minutes

would be enough to prove

our grasp on this epidemic is not tight enough.

.

I want to say,

“This is physical,”

when it crashes over me

like a war-torn tide,

daily sabotage not unlike your migraine

I wish I could go swallow an Aspirin

but one pill in the middle of an ocean

will not magically make the water calmer.

.

It is when we realize that we are

the water,

the tide,

each speck of sand we trickle onto

they are sprinkled in our bones–

not unlike the stars

the heavens will always be there,

waiting.

.

For even at your worst,

peace is always flowing;

anxiety

is not you,

it is just a word

you may not feel it now

but feel your breath–

it has not left you yet

the beauty found in nature

is found in your own skin,

still waters under roaring currents

just as Love sits

under pain,

patiently.

.

When you open up about it

I’m not promising it will be easy.

.

I’m promising it will be worth it.

.

December 20th, 2015

spread some love today and speak your truth– you are worth it

Washing Off Fear

Things that scare me:

too much movement,

not enough time,

students failing classes,

children falling in line

to a code of conduct

the state tends to copy

from one generation to the next–

why can’t they provide

bandaids instead

for the multitude of broken hearts

and wings clipped off

before they got to fly,

my skin burning and telling me

that inside isn’t safe

and yet the outside won’t stop spinning

I need to jump off,

but where?

I,

we

 must sink in, ankle deep

into a beautiful, mud lined shore

reminding us that a sticky situation

is never incurable–

all we must do

is wash our hands in the tide,

watch water flow

and wait for our souls to follow.

May 2, 2015

Happy (early) Birthday to my little brother, who is going to be a teenager tomorrow! 😮