Lost and Found

All my limbs can become trees:

It’s like being lost and becoming found,

all in one brief moment of stillness.

Having the world at your weathered fingertips

but clenching your fist instead

in the hopes of holding onto a feeling.

It’s when I breathe deep, and you

You are at the end of my breath.

Returning it to me, filling me up.

Extracting any air of emptiness

Consuming a void I didn’t know I’d had

Taking a trip to a place that only exists in an alternate universe,

where I am floating through time with no relativity

And you return to me, your breath.

Inflating my lungs

It’s a century, if just for a second

A world of questions answered in a mystery unsolved.

It’s a kiss

Strong enough to lose yourself in,

safe enough still

to have become found.

Advertisements

Christmas in March

Full Moon #LGLimitlessDesign #Contest:

The lights across the pond,

they flickered in the reflection

of water so still –

we wondered if it would ever move again.

of water so dark –

We praised the light that waltzed across it’s serene surface,

for having the bravery to dance among the darkness.

While the rest of the world was so still.

Here Goes Nothing

sunshine

“Here goes nothing,”

said the sun to the wind
As they danced within
The earths luminous sphere
And there you are,
And I am here
with your fingers wrapped around
The capillaries that fill with fear
If you only knew
That my sun and my wind
Are not afraid of dancing about,
with you near
But timid to find that wind doesn’t blow
And the sun doesn’t shine
without you here
My heart races
In a constant state of churning seas
And where I am, with you my dear
Is right where I wanted to be
So bring down the sun
And be my breeze
Because the earth doesn’t spin
When there are no nights like these
Breathe in deep,
And be my breeze
Because the sun doesn’t shine
When there are no days like these

Endless Youth

I grew up wandering in the grass surrounding the brown cedar rancher my parents decided to buy when I was five years old. Despite some of the turmoil in the midst of my youngest years, I always look back on these days with a fond sense of whimsy. I remember how long summer vacations seemed, how endless and full of discovery those three months were.

There were days full of digging up worms, and naming them of course. Planting flowers in the garden with mom, and listening to her tell me the names of all of them. Trying desperately, to remember those names and to know more about them.

Children, are so very curious. Even back then, I wanted to know everything, I wanted to understand the world I walked on in bare feet. I wanted to be close to it, and I was. In the early summer, I would walk down the very long and wooded trail deep in our back yard. On the lucky days, I would find the creek dried up under a makeshift bridge. I think it was a piece of plywood looking back, but in my young eyes it could have been the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It could have been the bridge to the rest of the world. When it was dried up, those were the best days. It meant I could wander down the creek, walk its windy ways and jump over the giant roots of pine trees when I came across them. I never knew then how much that trail would teach me.

I never knew that while I was climbing trees, following trails and finding the differences in flowers that I was becoming the young woman I am today. Full of questions and wonderment, full of lust for what is around me and what is ahead of me. Never afraid to take the next step. Because I knew that even if I must find my footing on a large fallen tree, I could trust that what I found once I got over it was always worth the climb. I knew at the end of the day that home was just down a scenic path and that I would find my way back no matter how far I went. I didn’t know then that I was setting the theme of my life.

I remember my dad, cleaning out the gutters when that time of year came. I would see the ladder to the roof on the deck, and know that up there was danger. But I could climb it if I was given the okay… and on the days that he let me it was great. I would take this journal I had found at a yard sale with my mom one Sunday. The print on the outside cover was floral, and faded, something you might see on an old couch your grandmother has been trying to get rid of for years. There was a little loop on the cover that you could put a lock and key through. Luckily at six years old I had no need for that amount of privacy. I had no secrets then, and honestly, I don’t have too many now. I’d take a pencil and that journal with me, I adored that book. Sitting next to a skylight, watching the trees and the big blue sky, I started writing. My first poem was called “Trees.” I never stopped writing after that. It has been a constant in my life ever since.

I’m not sure what inspired me to write this, maybe it was just having some appreciation for the “good ol’ days” but I also think it has to do with the importance that I believe is held in a small child’s heart and mind. We become people, so much sooner than I think our parents could ever imagine. We see things through such pure eyes. I am very glad that I have been able to keep some of that with me, that I still have the wonder and zest of that little girl willing to discover whatever was put in front of her. Being in touch with your inner child in such a grown up and fast paced world can really help to balance you, to keep you imaginative. After all, what’s so good about being a grown up anyway?

The Days Of Influenza

Influenza… sounds so much more serious when you call it that. Well this is day three of my first experience with the flu.
It’s odd… because you know you’re not dying. But then your throat swells and you can’t breathe through your nose and you think ‘if i fall asleep… how will I breathe??’
Maybe that’s me because I’m paranoid. But it is interesting the things that the flu makes you appreciate.

Last night, I couldn’t breathe at all and I found myself thinking about breathing. I prayed to God, ‘please let my right nostril unclog, I swear I will never take breathing for granted again.’

But breathing is breathing… so today after being heavily medicated I woke up and I could actually breathe through my nose so I wasn’t completely disgusted by my own mouth breathing. And I thought, wow so this is what it is like to be able to breathe again. I actually said thank you, to whomever it was that I apparently think is in charge of my immune system.

When you can’t do something so simple, you start to be grateful just for the act of doing it. All I wanted was to breathe. Any other day, I don’t think about breathing. I just do it. And I promised my higher power that if he just made breathing easy I would never take it for granted again. But I can’t just do that. Breathing is breathing. I can’t possibly think ‘thank you’ in my head whenever I take a breath. How would I get anything done?

What if we did though… what if we were so mindful of the simple things that make our lives happen that we appreciated just the act of them. When I was in Tennessee, a very large part of what I learned had to do with mindfulness… with being appreciative and grateful for the moment that was happening as it happened. On a day to day basis, we do not think about breathing. It just happens. It’s natural. Maybe we should recognize these things more… I know I should. I should be happy just to take breaths that are clear and painless.
How much more positive we would be if we just thought once a day “Wow… it was really easy to breath today. So glad I don’t have the flu today. So glad I have energy to just be apart of this day. So glad I am healthy, and I am living.”

So I guess this is me finding the bright side of the days of influenza. Today I can breathe, and it doesn’t burn my nostrils or shoot fire through my throat. (Thank you Mucinex and antibioitics!!)

But maybe everyday I should say thank you.
Thank you to the universe for creating an atmosphere that is somehow filled with oxygen that can fill our lungs.
Thank you for the planet that is so perfectly created for human life to thrive on.
Thank you for the grass that feeds the animals, the flowers that support the bees, the bees that pollenate, the water in the ocean that give the fish a home, the fresh rivers that help us to survive.
There are so many things we do not acknowledge on a day to day basis that are actually the sole reasons we are alive.
Thank you nose for smelling, fingers for feeling, thank you heart for beating.

Thank you life for being, and letting us all be.

Reason to Breathe

After a storm there is always a stillness
A time to live in retrospect,
To recollect old memories and old thoughts
There is a calm, that comes after a disaster, fleeting and mesmerizing
A smile through broken frowns,
A peace of mind in moments of spinning dizziness
There is a wave that breaks, close to your heart and a wind that blows through wild hair,
A wind that blows through shattered bones, and broken skin
And as it twirls around you,
You breathe for the first time.
You breathe in deep and feel your lungs expand and you know in that moment
That you are alive.
That no one is you in this whole world, and you have purpose despite your flaws.
And you breathe out all the emptiness that surrounds your soul,
And know that you are made of more than flesh,
That you are something this world needs,
That you have reason to breathe.

IMG_1156.JPG

<a

The Edge of The World

Take me to the ocean floor
Crash over me
Take me where we’ve been before
Over and over again

Bring me to the edge of the world
Rain over me
Take me with my toes curled
Tell me it will never end

Captivate me, make me inspired
Come over me
Pull me into your deepest desires
Show me it’s not all pretend

Let me in and close the door
Lean into me
Whisper ‘we won’t hide anymore’
I gave you my heart to mend.