Does a chick know that they’ve hatched
Or do they still feel like they did when they were in the egg
Just in a different environment?
There’s always this feeling that I am incubating
Still developing, still growing
I wonder if I will ever feel fully hatched
Happiness
Always just beyond my grasp
Until one day
I opened up my hands
And in it flew
Just like that
I love to meander. Either literally or figuratively. In my mind, telling a story or on my feet, I find it so gratifying.
Not always so for others. My husband can be driven a bit crazy by my sometimes long and winding way of coming to the point of a story, for example.
I get it. I love straight lines too. There a times I get to the point! Indeed!
Give me a route, I love to follow the way.
But to let that all go: plans, destinations, paths, pre-determined places to end up or problems to solve by this deadline or that…
To simply go where the wind blows me. To follow my nose. To follow clues.
To listen to the guide from within as old as the sea urging me this way or that.
This is how I find the best places. This is how I end up living the most “perfect” days. (Rarely the days I painstakingly plan.)
To sit and let my mind go from association to association, knowing that nothing is crucial but it is all valuable and each morsel may lead to something wonderful.
That is where my creativity comes alive, in the seemingly random twists and turns of consciousness as they dip into the collective unconscious.
Yes, I am a fan of meandering. As long as it is not in the Internet. That is the one place I am best served by staying to a clear intention and boundaries. Meandering there, I usually end up with regret and an emotional hangover.
But a day like today, meandering about Cape Cod. Priceless. Nourishing. Awesome.
I’ve been dancing on the skinny branches
It’s been a long time coming
No longer hiding ‘neath the foliage
Or burying myself in the gnarled knots of life
I am ready to fly, put these wings to use
I love the skinny branches, they’ve showed me myself
But the sky is beckoning with winking clouds
And the wind is calling my name
And trees never hold on to anything
So why on earth should I?
I am silk
I am leather, too
Sheer netting
Tough canvas tarp
Sheepskin soft
Sandpaper rough
Embroidered pieces
Trimmed in fringe
Delicate lace
Burlap sack
Thick-fitted felt
Smooth suede
Paper-thin linen
Scratchy wool
And cool satin am I
That’s right
I’d like a restart, please
I’d like one more shot
At being who I am
I’ve really gotten
So much of it all
So wrong
So come on, Universe
Watcha think?
How ’bout a do-over?!
Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: restart
The light inside
Early on
I learned to dim
Shining brightly
Was dangerous
All sink, and no swim
I try now to be,
To let, to shine
To radiate freely
All that is mine
Recently, a wise woman I know was talking about the earth: how we are the earth and yet are poisoning it. About how confusing and heartbreaking that is.
I cannot stop reflecting on that. This poem reminds me of my own connection to Mother Earth, one that I have come to cherish, but being an urban dweller, I can often “forget.”
I needed this poem today. (Some days are rougher than others.) Maybe you do too.
“And the Great Mother said:
Come my child and give me all that you are.
I am not afraid of your strength and darkness, of your fear and pain.
Give me your tears. They will be my rushing rivers and roaring oceans.
Give me your rage. It will erupt into my molten volcanoes and rolling thunder.
Give me your tired spirit. I will lay it to rest in my soft meadows.
Give me your hopes and dreams. I will plant a field of sunflowers and arch rainbows in the sky.
You are not too much for me. My arms and heart welcome your true fullness.
There is room in my world for all of you, all that you are.
I will cradle you in the boughs of my ancient redwoods and the valleys of my gentle rolling hills.
My soft winds will sing you lullabies and soothe your burdened heart.
Release your deep pain.
You are not alone and you have never been alone.”
~Linda Reuther, Homecoming
I feel you there
All the hearts of those before me
Your dreams are in mine
Or are my dreams echoes
Of what you imagined for yourselves
I want to be what you could not be
Do what you could not
Live more fully
More freely
Give those who’ll follow me
Dreams less encrusted
With the pain of the past
Create a new narrative
Of True Love and Joy
Give the future a love that will last
I hear you
My constant companions
Some whispering, some insistent
All desperate to be heard
Reaching from behind to steer me
Safely through the world
A world you did not survive
I hear you
I do
But I must find my own way
Must live new mistakes
And leave this world
Having lived new ways of being in it
I hear you
I do
And I say
Thank you
And I say
Goodbye
Beyond the Skinny Branches 