Tag: black

small steps in the dark

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

For the part of my brain
that thrives on planning
having no concrete plan
leaves me wondering what to do
like putting one foot in front of the other
in a pitch black room
I have never been in before
earnestly reaching out for anything
any clue of place or floorplan
taking the wrong step
feels scarier
than taking no step at all.

Eventually
my eyes will adjust to the darkness
if only slightly.
I need to keep moving
somehow.
Small, cautious steps
are better than none –
I whisper to myself
over and over.
Rewiring my brain
thought by thought
step by step.

no more boxes

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

I grew up believing
in the black-and-white of right-and-wrong,
the this-or-that,
the all-or-nothing.

As I chase validation
I see my fear of living outside the box
as deviation.

I see now,
it becomes clear,
the opportunity to see continuums
rather than boxes.

What is right, or what is wrong,
depends on your perspective.

What is black, or what is white,
depends upon the shade of your glasses.

I want to live
in a space so vast I cannot see the walls,
with colors and sounds and open boxes
scattered, their contents spilling,
where everything is right, is accepted,
in any given moment.

full-colored view

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

What lay asleep in blackness
only moments ago,
now shows me signs of waking up
with color and light shining on,
and emanating from, their being.
Trees and clouds, vehicles and houses
come into full-colored view
as dawn breaks into day.

As coffee courses through my body
and words fill the pages,
I too come into full-colored view,
into myself.

they are human

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Killed
for the color of skin.

Beneath the color,
beneath the size, shape,
and everything between,
they are human.

We are all human.

Our voices, our protests,
our demands to protect humanity
ring around the world.

Black lives matter.
Enough is enough.

light on dark

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Dark wood floors show everything.
Dust, dirt, hair, debris,
nothing blends in.

You were a single, long hair
against the deep mahogany
and black cabinets.
Shining solo, proud and strong
I saw you,
and the rest blurred away into darkness.

You were magic, are magic,
impossible to miss.

black or white

~ jennadawn ~ Leave a comment

Maybe I don’t need to be here or there,
one place or another,
black or white.
There must be shades of grey in between
across the spectrum,
where we can still be together
but get as close to the black and white
as we can
without losing the grey completely.

Maybe I can have pieces of it all
without inflicting self-destruction,
without being all-or-nothing.

Maybe all I need to do is ask.