I live my life through the words I write
Stop, please.
Why in such a rush?
Alert your ears, quiet your voice.
A life grasped,
embraced, captured and
remembered through stories shared
offers comfort and hope
if listened to.
Knowing, to the core,
the world around us
is possible only through travel,
exploration and a mind open.
Who are we to say otherwise
from our stationary couch
and firmly planted feet.
Worlds surround us, call out to us.
Why not answer?
The longer you look
the more that appear,
faintly at first, emerging from the
blackened sky, until
millions of stars cast their light
upon our eyes.
Close your eyes, lose focus
and open them to experience
the wonder all over again.
Satellites roam, airplanes jet
and the soft, cool breeze of night
finds its way under the blankets
to rest against shivering skin.
Shivering
from the coolness
and
from the humility enveloping my soul.
Humbled by the reminder
of life’s impermanence,
jarring the body, the initial energy jolt
that reverberates for days, and then
months and years.
Does it change the color of glasses you
wear, facing the world every day?
For me, it does.
How to
optimize happiness,
invest in time with others,
give and accept love often and generously,
honor my inner compass;
listening to the answers of these frequent questions.
Displace the certainty of death
to today.
Live in today.
Only today.
I string together words
like beads on a string
hoping that their order and arrangement
evicts feelings of
Passion
Love
Heartbreak
and Beauty.
Bring beauty to the written word,
words that carry meaning beyond their
place in a dictionary.
Are you meant to keep things out
or in?
Do you mean to protect me
or them?
Distort the reality my eyes absorb so to
block only certain parts, geometrically
and consistently,
forcing me to change my position so to
collect the full picture, all the
information?
You are the firm stance to which I must adapt
and yet, I can do better than you
for my arms can travel through, above
and below you
and my body can travel round.
You can only keep so many things out
and protect me so long
until I no longer need you
anymore.
Looking at you from across the room,
yearning for your eyes to find
and connect with mine.
All I want, all I need,
is for you to see me. Notice me.
Acknowledge that I am here and I am looking at you.
Your eyes are a swirl of greens
from sage to emerald, and olive to forest
that sweep me away to the countrysides of Kerry.
I know not where in the world I stand
when I look at you and my thoughts jumble.
All I want, all I need,
is for you to see me. Notice me.
I have meandered into your eyes before, as
these are not new shades of green attracting my fancy.
While enchanting, I also know them to be manipulative
and perhaps that is how I have best come to know them.
How they are implanted into my memories, withholding my escape.
You too described my eyes as being beautiful,
but perhaps you saw them as easy, or temporary,
all the while knowing you would not be the one to tell me so,
for I am a ‘smart girl’, one of my traits which are admirable to you.
All I want, all I need,
is for you to see me. Notice me,
because I need to tell you that you were right. I am a smart girl.
Although I doubt you seek my affirmation for your righteousness.
I am a smart girl.
Smart enough to understand why you left.
And I want to capture your eyes of green one last time
so you can see the fire within mine.
Look for the light.
May it appear from places unexpected
and surprise you.
Enlighten you.
Bring hope, joy and courage.
Find the light where others see only
darkness.
Look for the light
and it will look for you.
Two nights in a row
has my sleep been interrupted
by
cracks and rolls of thunder
and
flickers and jolts of light.
I mind not.
Looking out the window from my bed
to see the trees and houses
across the way
light up, and shake
as mine does,
I wonder if they are too, awake.
Softness fills the quiet, black intervals
as rain starts falling down.
Forces larger than any one
or group of people
are at play now.
Allow the thunder, light and rain
to fill the soul with humility
and modesty.
Welcome them
for the sun has come out in the mornings
with the dampened pavement
and droplets on grass blades
the only evidence
of what passed through mere hours before.
Does this mean a good thing?
The nerve-wracken birds fluttering
about in my chest,
apprehensive hands fidgeting
above the keyboard,
voices of doubt singing symphonic
melodies in my ears,
my heart fibrillating to life
my deepest fears of vulnerability?
Does this mean a good thing
to feel this scared
of baring myself to you
and letting you in?
Dawning Words 