I always knew I could fly,
Dreaming it since I was wee high,
But even in dreams
I felt a little slight
When I took flight
Feeling so light
I didn’t fear the fall,
But reaching heights so high,
I’d never come down,
But rather float off beyond stars.
I Had to wake up and grow roots,
Make roots in firm ground,
Stopped dreaming of moons,
And live free though earth bound
Making live sounds,
Walking tall mounds,
Rebound and rebound,
Until I found home
And came home.
In control of my power
I Bloom like a flower,
And roam Like fluff seeds
In need of a breeze
Out of dreams and into reality,
Soaring like bees
Awake and aware
In my power
Then I ever could dream.
We ease and flow in and out of sleep
SiR soulfully, with his silky voice, singing “Summer In November”
Watching the swirly smoke rise,
Sending our prayers we mumble and sketch the essence inside us.
“We all want to create our legacy,”
But we already are the legacy whether you see it or not.
Like the butterfly.
Out of darkness
Nothing changed and
Everything felt the same,
Yet felt so different
As if I finally wiped that spec of dust
From my eye
And I could comfortably see
What I was always looking at.
I have put up walls,
tore them down,
built them back up,
splattered pictures across them,
stacked up books,
Cluttered it to hide the holes I punched through them,
Healed and cleared them away,
slowly chiseled them down,
and now I’m done with them.
I decided to grow roots
and life grew in its place.
There was a time I proposed to death
At the front of the wheel looking through darkness, from hopeless darkness.
My consorts stacked beside me
Plath, Poe, and Proust
and I imagined it would be beautiful irony to meet my soon to be betrothed at the wall of an abandoned asylum.
But he did not come easy and with no shining white light.
He abandoned me and I stood staring into a red light that would not flip the switch to green and my cries dwindled before I decided I just needed to go home.
Looking back, I know it was Devine intervention. I imagine it was my two mischievous boys who had different intentions for me and knowingly tied up mr Grimm laughing all the way through the prank,
But I am grateful almost two decades later,
And the illusory wall a reminder at how flawed and naive my soul can be,
Because I forgot and could easily have given up all this beauty unraveling like spools of gold before me towards a land of yellow brick roads, emerald bejeweled cities, and a place where a monkey like me can fly.
Come to the place that rests at the center of the universe,
It lies in between the beginning and the end,
It exists between the id and the super,
It dwells between the root and crown,
It is that moment you feel like your standing at the edge of a cliff but instead of closing your eyes,
You decide to look over the cliff,
And feel your heart race at the sight of the landscape that expands beneath you,
And though you still feel the fear of falling over,
You do not fear it because your perspective has flipped.
Come meet me at the place where the heart beats on and on and on…
With the years coming and passing so quickly and my disposition so capricious, I don’t know how I will be able to keep up with time. Recently I’ve been feeling surges of intense mind blowing moments that I let pass unrecorded, followed by unusual calm and quiet. I can go days without the need to do much and it’s strange. But something’s brewing up there and I feel it. Sometimes I get a little breathless at just the thought that ‘I am alive!’ Which takes me to a ‘shit, before I know it, I’ll be 90 reflecting back and thinking, ‘that was so quick’ and like that…. But then it puts me in my place and I know how small I am in the great scheme of this ‘living’ thing we do, yet how infinite I am in this ‘living’ thing I do.
I drew a card today. I am a dragonfly ready for my emergence. Apparently dragonflies go straight from egg to nymph and wait up to 4 years before they emerge as the splendor of the colorful winged thing flirting over the waters with allure and beauty. So it’s only been four years? That I’ve been staggering around a nymph and coincidentally I have been feeling a little ready for something. Maybe thats why it’s a little quiet in my head space sometimes and almost violent at others.
The iridescence in my reflection is undeniable though.
Anyway, I just wanted to record that I am making my very first New Years resolution to post some kind of writing in a timely once a week manner, otherwise I might lose track of time altogether and stare at the mirror tomorrow and I’ll actually be a 90 year old dragonfly, just like that.