Turning Tides

Submit

to the feeling

of starting over;

you are the earth

and the sky,

the ocean

and the moon,

turning,

trusting,

turning,

trusting…

May 21, 2017

congratulations to my wise, soulful little sister for graduating with 2 Bachelors degrees today ❤

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Flow

A simple life

a solo life

is not a life off-course,

.

We must teach

our sails to turn

to a new wind

.

I want to learn

what it is like

to be accepted by my own skin,

.

I want to feel

what it is like

to pull the oars and steer

.

What it is like

to let hatred eat up

your skull

.

Only evil would know,

not I, not you, my sister,

we’re Love

.

Love the simple,

Love the brave,

Love the everything will stay the same

.

Now change

because even that facade will fade away,

the impermanence of all holds meaning

.

More than my hands around a cross,

Now I’ll get lost

in the mind that identifies too much with itself 

.

We are body,

We are mind,

We are soul,

.

Flowing

in one place,

together.

.

July 12, 2015

To clarify, I am and grew up Catholic, and I DO believe that the cross is meaningful.  I believe that Christian spirituality holds many basic truths as do belief systems such as Buddhism.  They overlap more than we may realize at the surface.  What I take away from both systems is that we are all connected to a Divine source (whatever It may be), that we are all connected, and that we must live in the “now” to access It.

Home

Home is so much bigger than it used to be,

now.

 

The plane touches down and part of my soul

is granted the peace of knowing that it is back

to where it started.

 

But what about yesterday?

What happens to the people I met

in an across-the-country-state

where the sun blooms in hills I never knew

until the wind blew my body in their direction?

 

My mind followed.

 

Memories will remain stuck to me like paint to a wall

I never wish to scrub off, that I never want to fade

the students’ faces, teammates’ voices,

my roommate’s laugh.

 

They were, are, my best friends,

just as sun and moon follow the lake

their reflections will change, but not disappear.

 

I close my eyes, open them with what seems like an answer

to the age old question, “Why are we here?”

 

We are here to expand our love in all directions,

wherever the wind takes us, wherever our soul lead us

we are one soul, after all.

 

I can sing of home, we can howl to the moon

praying to see the sun another day–

when light, all along, was right in front of us,

forever homebound.

 

June 28, 2015

Home

I’m not looking for The One.

I suppose I’m just looking for the one I won’t get tired of.

……

The number of betrays I have felt–

they are buried down deep

and it was not until I was ready enough to hold the shovel

that I could dig them out and start to peek

at the friends that I fell for,

the hearts that broke

a piece of mine away

and it’s like I’m still looking for the pieces.

…..

I never intend for much of anything

to happen

because once I feel like something is “home”

like someone is “home”

I want nothing more but to stay in one place

in time

and swim as the minutes swoon,

tears fall, smiles appear

…..

I don’t want them to go away;

this explains why my biggest fear is change

….

Not just any change,

like the nickels in my pocket,

the grass stain on my shirt,

my aging years, the new day coming

….

We learn lessons not from god,

but from his gifts

this world is nothing but experience

and yet all we want is not thankfulness,

but choice

between “who” and “what” and “when”

and the childhood friends that soiled your memories

or maybe just burned up the sides

of the one polaroid you have left.

..

All I want is to go home.

.

All I need is to realize, to accept,

that home is not the same place it was when I left it.

………………………………………………………………………….

May, 25, 2015

I Write on a Blanket of Snow

Pen

finds its way back

to the paper

back to my truth

in the hopes that

“mine”

can still be

“ours”

in times like this–

white capped mountains

filling with the sound

of my shadow,

a lost soul

radiance

spilling out into sunlight

even the mountain missed,

talking with my sister

I know that the tradition

will pass on

the human way,

of knowing

the snow will melt,

flow,

and fall again,

just like the edge of my pen,

longing for love.

January 27, 2015

The Mirror

Once upon a time

I looked into the mirror

and saw a chubby face:

the image clenched its claws

around my throat,

promised vengeance on a heart

that had been hurt before

but never that bad–

never by itself.

 

It turns out pain is addictive

when you place it all in one hand,

one cheek,

one thought can turn

your entire life around a curb

I flew until I reached the spot

where my heart burst,

when I heard a bird inside of me,

“I want nothing more

than to beat my wings and fly,”

but my breath wouldn’t let it–

and so it perched inside instead.

 

I suppose any story

can be flipped to mirror

another, to flip my eye

on its head, turns out

its not the first time

since life, after all,

is all about change,

when any mirror I see

is the one turned

upon myself,

over and over

different shades of gray

not found in a book,

but chosen, inconspicuously,

one at a time

by the owner of the mirror,

by the one that aligns

my waken breath.

 

December 21, 2014