Poetry addressing Third Eye Chakra (vision, psychic)
I don’t know how you found me. Or if you were given to me. Everyone else passed. Even when they never left. Ridiculed. Diagnosed. Sidelined. You, however, paused to stop; taking. No, making the time, to enter my interior. Through my exterior. You saw flowers in my weeds. Courage in my foundation, and inspiration through […]
To those who know me Read More »
I will always feel more than most,but I am not unique. I will never know who named me,but I am not nameless. I will always stumble and fall, But I am still,standing.
If I were spirit and nature itself, I would float a lazy river, half in, half out; hypnotized by the canopy of leaves and birds dancing overhead. Light shifting and sparkling with the wind. Composer and performer in play. Eddying in each moment, aware only of a bird’s call or warm current that catches me
No one can truly prepare for the day or split second when their life will end. The inertia and gravity of that solitary moment is inescapable. It’s a truth that inspires, paralyses and haunts us all. That split second when, consciously or not, a lifetime of theories, addictions and personal evolution collide in reckoning. This
When our time comes Read More »
I don’t know when it began, this lifetime or past. But this time, my memory and heartwarmed upon our first introduction. A friend, a lover, I knew not. So so long ago,I found myself missing you as our eyes and voices first infused. Odd. Please, I said. Take a seat. Tell me our story dear
How erotic and powerful you are, my feminine drum. Your surge is primal. Carrying with you swells and tides from both storms and calm seas long past. Overpowering me with pleasure, recollection, rage and resurrection. You pirate my vessel as your drum beats plant their hard sole boots on my deck. You only commandeer when
It was in a Hawaiian ocean that I first felt your power and presence. I had come to you for me,running into you as my heaven and earth. You took my breath away,and embraced my entire body with your smooth salty lips. As the salt waters caressed my heart andcreative currents birthed from the deep
I’m in labor, as mother and child. Pushing, bearing down, panicking Consumed within a process I don’t control. She’s coming. My inner child that was left on a side street long, long ago. She says she’s ready to come to me, and she has questions of me. As mother and child, I coach her. Yes,
Black, yellow, purple and brown. Signs of death and decay. Proof of life, and the impact of pushing oneself too far in the pursuit of joy and excellence. You bruise still. Sometimes the result of others. Just as many caused by your own doing. You bruise still. Seeing them makes it more real. Evidence of
Primal sacred places come from such mind blowing devastation. How can that be, when we can so easily access these places and enjoy their bounty birthed of scars and cycles of resurrection that miraculously transpired over thousands of years? I come to you. Viewing the layers and altitudes of carved rock cliffs, botanical gardens, and
