(Oh Wonder)ful Life

Evening settled slowly

as balm faded to soft breezes,

cooling buzzing body gold

among trunk and towering trees.

This is where music was made to be played.

Concert halls contain the notes

while the woods hold it in the air,

Swaying there

with us,

Our midnight moon hips

matching rhythms of Earth herself.

And as the band played they untangled

us from our tightly held flesh

allowing us to melt into

the magic of our bones;

Our souls.

Their improvisation allowed for

easy imagination

filling our heads with daydreams

and technicolor beats.

Lucidity falling on each breath

and pulling our heat strings

into ultra life indigo skies.

Wrapped up in the moment

until we lose it

in our overgrown

forests.

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Oh, Sorry Ocean

I find myself troubled by the odd things I say and the questions I ask that seem to trouble others. 

Each time it’s like I have dropped a heavy stone into crystalline calm waters and it causes ripples across the surface. So I dive in to try and undo what I’ve done, but this creates a larger disturbance than before.  And now I, too, am drenched in deep. So then I aim to stop each wake of my worries with my own fragile hands. I pull them closer to my body to make sure they don’t reach another’s shore, yet the water slips through my fingertips and forms waves upon waves until I am waxing and waning in an oceanic storm. And there’s nothing left to do but tread until it settles and everyone moves on. I wait until the calm returns so I can swim to the muddy bank with tired arms. My bones only strong enough now to wrap myself up as I sit there alone. And then I remind myself to be careful when I pick up stones. 

Slow, and steady.

I just need more time.

More time

to unwind and unravel,

to travel beyond myself

and this body –

undo false lessons

to feel the reality

of love, life, and being.

freeing my mind from shackles

I placed on my own

Being

guided by the arms

of society’s control.

I’m whole.

But I need more time to

show up

that way.

Evening in August

An evening in August, you came quiet and full.

I’ve been walking in a garden on the edge of autumn,

blooming flowers settling in slumber

as the branches loosen their grip on green leaves.

A nourishment of change as I slip myself

between cedar roots and delicate moss.

Even the rain that settles between goosebumps,

raising fine hair on my arms, is warming

to my bones and cleansing to my soul.

Loving you is a summer zephyr

while to others love’s all storm.

Loving you is balmy breezes

as we watch oceans rise and fall.

 

My love is unspoken in other tongues

for my mother tongue is one

no-one can hear,

but you.

 

 

 

tidepool eyes

Creatures of the deep

come to rest; come to sleep,

in your dreamy tide pool eyes.

Fragments of your soul

washing up as tides rise –

settling as they fall

and our ocean clears through.

In crystalline hues

I see past the chaos and chasms

our world portrays.

With one look I undress

the messes of layers

built over my body.

Skin to salt.

Bare and raw,

yet satiated by safety.

Just one look in your tide pool eyes

and I realize the same treasure lies

with each of us – inside.

We just need to take the time

to find it.

 

Not yours

Her body is not yours to own.

Her body is not yours to hold.

Her body was not made for grown

men to admire, fawn after or desire.

Her body was made to carry her soul.

A celestial carriage of mere vessels and cartilage

holding divine light within it, so vast

with a mind of masts that set sail

past the confines you define her as.

Forget the privilege you’ve been told you hold.

My body is not yours to own.

 

Friends with Fear

I am making friends with fear,

to divert it from taking control

and digging a hole

in my fragile heart.

Let the weight of it all

empty to my feet to keep

me grounded as I steep

in this and welcome

fickle feeling.

I am not fear but fear

is a part of me I observe

as I learn to overturn

each stone of my being.