Rising

I can feel myself growing with each day. 

New opportunities are presenting themselves. 

For love. 

For work. 

For art. 

I am leaving behind what distracts me. 

And working hard to face what is in front of me. 

Breaking out on my own. 

Finding a space that is entirely mine. 

Setting boundaries with people. 

Finding myself within my own field. 

Cultivating peace and inner security. 

It is my inner strength that is bringing all this to pass. 

Taking refuge in the jewel of my own heart 

And thriving there. 

This is a new world I’m treading in. 

A new world of possibilities and satisfaction. 

Of needs met and passions pursued.

What starts from within will inevitably make its way out. 

And so I am beginning with the blank canvas of my soul, 

Forging ahead with a new life. 

One grounded in love and care and strength and resilience and fluidity. 

And I am excited for the day when finally my dreams come to pass 

Somewhere there is a layer of skin I no longer need, 

A shell going back to the earth 

While I rise 

Little by little 

Into the heavens. 

What if…

What if time offered you 

A chance at something new? 

Would you hold on to the past? 

Massage the old wounds 

‘Cause they’re so familiar? 

Or would you allow 

Life to progress as it wants to? 

Would you give yourself 

To the flow of things?

Trust in its movement? 

Do you have any choice anyways

When love bangs on your door?

Your Vision Quest

I hope your vision quest 

Yields fields of Henriettas,

Rivers of clear potable water, 

Cacti itching to share their wit,

Songs on the street corner, 

No scrubs 

Purple Janices in your head space, 

Lingering, transforming 

Breathing in a freedom 

You have never tasted. 

And I hope you see me 

In the red stained hills.

I’ll miss you. 

I know it’s a short while 

But I will. 

And I will miss your laugh,

Calling you Kevin, 

Waking up to your creepy smile 

Beaming at me, 

Drinking beers in the park. 

It’s been a tender month 

Knowing you,

Growing too.

May the trajectory of our lives 

Yield the sweetest fruits

And may we learn together 

The art of loving 

As the ancients intended, 

Allowing it to become 

More impersonal with each passing day 

Until we are certain that love is a faculty 

And not an object to possess. 

I hope you find a place where the stars 

Wrap you like a blanket, 

And the lone wolf sings to the moon 

And your heart makes itself known 

In wondrous colorful ways.

I love you. 

Beneath the Surface

It was not their leaving that depressed her. 

The depression was always there, 

Hiding beneath the surface,

The baseline for her existence 

The stage upon which the play unfolded, 

Waiting for the right concoction of events to help it boil over. 

Their leaving was merely the final flame 

The straw that broke the camel’s back, 

The ripping of the veil from a psyche 

Shrouded in itself.

The depression would not go away on its own. 

No, no, no. It had plans. It had arms to stretch. It was trying to make itself known, 

And so it was, in half pints of whiskey 

In Tall boy PBRs

And shots of absinthe. 

In not wearing her seatbelt 

Or eating with any regularity. 

In crying alone at the park, 

Looking at trees and saying, 

With too much incredulity, 

‘I exist.’

And now, asleep on her bed 

With a cub scout bandana 

Tied round her neck, 

And a snoring dog, 

And a cat peering out the window into the dark,

It was clear what this was. 

This was the initiation, 

The gateway into that heretofore masked part of herself. 

An unfulfilled despair finally coming to the light.