Since my memories first began to form
I have felt a breadth of intricate feelings
Lacking the depth of experience
Informing my progression of personhood
A self-fulfilling prophecy of becoming
And now
Older, sure
Wiser, maybe
Sensibilities still full of grandeur
Now littered with a life lived
A vast expanse left ahead still to be traversed
I try, desperately, failingly
To claw back the ignorance
Push away the ugliness of experience
Intimately intertwined in me
Hopeful
Hopeless
All the same
Sunny Sunny Days
This is how the day goes, soft and shadowy, bright snd electric. At odds yet all together. I sit in the sun and reflect on my memories, analyzing thoughts as a task. Stopping to smell the breeze, florals fill my consciousness, eyes closed, sun on my skin. I feel it all. No really, I feel it all. I am just one spec of dust in infinite time and yet, the world feels like it is just for me. Created for my pleasure. For my pain. Melting as I sit, basking, birds chirping, quiet contemplation. There’s so much to consider. Always humming with electricity, at least that’s how it feels, in my brain. No really, in my brain. As the bees buzz by and the dragon flys vibrate, barely perceptible, I am alive, I am here and now. One part of a staggering totality. My sun revolves around me, and don’t I know it, don’t I feel it. Don’t I feel it all. What else is there to do but enjoy the light.
Bubble Bath
Strike me now
while I delight in this languid warmth
calming aromatics soothe through every pore
my heart-beat in synch with a bluesy deep bass
Float up from beneath me
breaking through soft bubbles
water just below boiling, caressing my skin
stark cold porcelain edges – my only respite from the heat
Let it flow
like this puckered up punch to my lips
as the tension melts away, limb from limb
relax my mind, release my soul, too much to ask,
from a bubble bath?
Spring, Slowly
My mind is always racing, bouncing from one ponderance to another. I roam the expanses of my consciousness, searching, asking, hoping, wanting. All the while arriving nowhere? Everywhere, all at once? The rhythmic hum of rain, drumming softly on my window pane, the only interruption in my reverie. Wistful wondering, lazy afternoons, stuck in a haze…or did I mean daze? You see what I mean? Too much, too little, never enough. Slipping in and out of here and now, there’s always better days. Yearning for the suns warm touch, grass soft under my feet, flowers blooming, life again. The seasons they do change.
Spring Fever
“What do you think of when you close your eyes?” A whispered question, awaiting a response, heart heavy in my chest, a flutter nonetheless. His breathing matches mine. Lips parting gently, “beauty, peace, the sun, the stars, and mostly you.” I can’t help but feel the warmth spilling out of him, spilling out of me. Desire seeps through me. Grey days and cold mornings slowly fade into abstraction. Here I am now, a glow. Slow, sleepy afternoons last under covers. Soft slow passion. We are an island. I’ve never been more excited to be stranded.
Soft Spring
Grey uninspired days
Testing the limits
of my patience
Soft whispers of rain
keep me grounded
Watching her wake
return to life
I too am filled
Desire for life
slips across my skin
Spring comes alive
finding me waiting
impatient
unfocused
hope in my heart
love letter to earth
Leaves rustling in the breeze
Nature’s wind chimes
Close your eyes
Let the magic of earth transport you
Sounds heard across centuries
A beautiful shared symphony
August
August fades fast
Fast as she came
Tender moments bathed in amber glow
and still I stand
Holding steady
Basking in her warm glory
One more day
or two
or five
Lucky there are Augusts
After all
Tsunami Season
She is unforgiving
She is hungry
She rises up with the clouds
Preparing to crash back down
Clawing everything back with her inky tendrils
Angry, she thrashes
Before her descent into madness
You can’t outrun this vicious fate
If you lie in her way
All are the same in her clutches
Just as she came she flees back out
Rage appeased from her feed
Retreating out to sea to sulk
For all we’ve done, her small revenge
Leaving her mess for those left over in her wake
september
There’s a certain hope that comes in autumn , the wild wicked summer air dissipates and makes way for something calmer, something cosier. Not necessarily safe, but comforting. I ease in to the cool crisp air and sigh as I watch the leaves around me start to tinge with muted orange, playful yellows and bold reds. Just like summer sunsets before, autumn brings with her her own shades of promise. I inhale crystalline air into my heaving lungs, ready to slow down, standing at the edge of a fog covered field, staring out into the unknown. I am ready for whatever comes next, what winter winds blow my way. I change just as the seasons do. More me than ever before with each passing moment.