I love the way
you hold me in the palm of your hand
as I tell lies to myself
about days gone by,
how you catch the tears as they fall
past the jagged edge of my cheekbone,
how you, my beloved, never deign to
remind me of myself
and in this way
put me back together again
Like a hopeful story I tell my grandchildren through black and white images, I never forgot you.
It has been so long, yet time measures nothing. Mangled, I hid how entirely I fell apart when you left, and in your innocence, you moved on quicker than I healed.
The words never said that you wanted to hear: I never wanted you to go, my love; I just needed some space to do the things I knew I had to do.
Though none of this was about you, I lost you in the process. When some hearts shatter, they are silent.
All these years gone by and how different we both must be, yet I have found no one else to love even a fraction the depth of you.
I still remember your hand I held, the cocoon of your body transporting mine through the darkness. Sweetness is the name on my lips and whose tears still moisten them.
In exotic places, I roamed free. You have lived your own life and while I am not privy to its contents, you have been with me always.
Though I know not if it matters at all, you are with me still.
We have been telling the people that this is the
Eleventh Hour
Now we must go back and tell the people this is the
HourAnd there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.It is time to speak your truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
This could be a good time!There is a river flowing now very fast
It is so great and swift that there are those who will
be afraid.
They will try to hold on to the shore.
They will feel they are being torn apart and they
will suffer greatly.Know the river has its destination.
The Elders say we must let go of the shore, and
push off and into the river, keep our eyes open, and
our head above the water.See who is in there with you and Celebrate.
At this time in history, we are to take nothing
personally.
Least of all ourselves.For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth
and journey comes to a halt.The time of the lone wolf is over.
Gather yourselves!
Banish the word “struggle” from your attitude and
your vocabulary.All that you do now must be done in a sacred
manner
And in celebration.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for . . .-The Elders, Hopi Nation, Oraibi, Arizona -
(thank you Josh)
I’ve decided that for every teeny tiny thing I feel someone’s judging me for, I’m going to bless it with love.
That’s right.
No more wanting to make it beautiful for someone else. How about this instead–how about seeing it as already beautiful for me.
And with this, I hope to learn that it is not that I don’t measure up in countless ways, it’s that I’ve been letting myself down for not loving those places for what they are, whatever they are, however big, flat, speckled, lumpy, unruly, wild, unconventional, opinionated, desirous or unapologetic they are…
If you don’t know the kind of person I am
and I don’t know the kind of person you are,
then a pattern that others made may prevail in the world.
The pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
~William Statford
how strange it was,
to see the contents of my life through her reactions
how she kept giving me astonished looks,
as if to say, “you must be joking, you’ve done that too?”
we go along
we make choices
we do what we want, what we feel, or what we should
what does our heart long to end up with?
in the world beyond
what matters is the realness we bravely and humbly hold
A child in the backseat
tear-stained cheeks
hand pressed against the rear window
a silent tribute as the car drives away
I pressed my palm against your chest
wanting to hold you
Your heart was beating
but I couldn’t feel it
The funniest way to end an email to me–
“okay, this is where you chime in.”
I love it so.
settled granite boulders
holding tight to the air
a slow leak from my chest
into the cold night
you are surprised
by my reaction
as if you can speak and the words
don’t touch me
as if an impermeable dome surrounds me
and not this ramshackle house I call my heart
