Serenity resides beside the seashore beneath the salty breath of the ocean the rhythmic humming of the heavy tide reminds me to breathe deeply The liquid lungs of this sacred planet the dark, watery womb of all life releasing oxygen into the atmosphere while it sways against the weight of the moon The crashing exhale of massive waves chases away all fears of letting go hypnotized by the back and forth of forces far greater than I The awe-inspiring grandeur of the undulating sea brings a deep sense of peace I've been holding my breath
free verse
What’s Left
There is still beauty that pushes through the tiny cracks in hard concrete paths the sun still hangs glorious behind the gentle clouds passing by unrushed above the congested cacophony of highway All this light pollution cannot obliterate every star behind our protective veil of atmosphere this tender blue sphere still swirls through space defying the empty vacuum with precious life despite a history of catastrophic cataclysms It's better to keep breathing for something small than to be choked by the bitter absence of all that I once believed to be possible better to attempt to rise to the challenge of finding small pockets of pleasure in pain Sometimes I think my soul is crushed and given back to the cool soil so that I can be grounded once again in simplicity and experience the soft energy of starting over with fresh tiny tendrils of humble roots
Looking Inside
The blank page is a practice
of reaching deep within
to see what lies in the shadows
behind your heart, suspended
on the other side of silence
Some days you'll find it flooded
a pressure valve in need of release
other days a smooth wall with no seams
a concrete caste that's settled over everything
impenetrable, cold, and cruel cocoon
Some days writing is as easy
as stepping into the stream
of liquid emotion flowing freely
tracing the contours and shadows
of an aching that appears in living color
Some days it takes a chisel
to search for cracks in thick cement
an uncomfortable effort to uncover
the clumsy, crude impressions
of a crippled and cringing unconscious
Unprompted outpourings of an overflowing heart
contrasted with a stiffness that contracts the soul
unable to predict which familiar state awaits me
as I sit down dutifully to endure
whoever I am today
Mercy
I've never mastered the mercy of letting something die fear compels me to keep a cold corpse animated with artificial light Clinging to a casket ensures I won't ever come to learn what else life has to offer but I feel too unworthy to ask for anything more There is no energy left inside for seeking rising suns settling for a soft hand to hold as the darkness of night descends seems all I can manage Still that hot ember inside remains more and more often sparking into flame threatening to devour any illusion I may choose to cling to for small comfort whipped up by the wind of all that's ingenuine Searching for deeper answers beneath the one that keeps surfacing unable to decide my own suffering a life spent floating restlessly down-river when will the ocean finally come?
You Don’t Have to Earn It
There was a brief time as a teen when I recoiled from all the love I thought came to me too easily Some troubled part of me was disgusted by the fact that I didn't earn it The unconditional love of my mother, of my family, my pets seemed cheap and unsettling I couldn't help but stew in sour thoughts questioning what I had ever done to deserve it Sometimes it seemed like a consolation prize like accepting this love would confirm I was incapable of winning it for myself Now I've learned that, in fact, the sweetest, most sincere love is love we haven't earned Unconditional positive regard is a precious rarity to be grateful for Some people are not so lucky to have that unflinching affection selflessly bestowed for no reason A love that not even collision with disinterest or hatred will deter or destroy Few things are more meaningful or moving than being granted a love you feel unworthy of And there is no greater honor than to spend my life learning to pay that same love forward, indiscriminately into the open, imperfect hearts of others
Fixation to Exhaustion
Swooning sensation of new aspirations is quickly stamped out by self doubt slowly rising from subconscious to surface All energy is exhausted in efforts to extinguish the inward agony of not being worthy enough for your own endeavors The thought itself becomes tainted with terrible ties to negative self-talk until all you can do is turn away from once cherished dreams all together The heaviness of this heartache is enough to halt everything even the hopes inside your own head that you've harbored to help you hold on
A Soul Submerged
The tide rises with the descending sun and as the leaves form a crunchy crust over the earth that grows thicker with each passing day I watch the waters creep closer pawing at the shoreline of my soul No breakers can withstand the slow advance of the seasons time ensures the slow submersion into the living death of ice and snow I brace myself for another long sleep Water-logged months of darkness slow, undulating rhythm below the waves of winter are hard, helpful reminders of interconnection insolation and artificial lighting cannot replace the outstretched arms of sensual sunshine The earth turns inwards and withdraws a well deserved rest from being taken for granted nursing her wounds beneath the cold surface resting and recharging to return again the faithful promise that keeps me going
Intruder
Why do you still seep through my subconscious and sour my dreams with your familiar scent? even when I finally feel sure I can let go your phantom reappears to pierce my heart Months of black void nights suddenly ended with blurry images and emotions on fire still razor sharp after all these years bleeding out onto my white sheets as I sleep Even the me inside my mind has grown weary of your semi-frequent infiltration last night I told you I wished you'd never have come back into my life at all Even so, there is something distracting about the way nothing else feels real after our unconscious encounters everything else becomes hollow For this reason some part of me still savors the sweet drops of pain you produce within me a reminder of the tender stirring I once felt inside a stark contrast to the silence that now smothers
Embracing Autumn
The sleepy sun begins to blink after months of brightly beaming suddenly realizing the long, hot days have started to wane once again There is a stirring of pumpkin spice excitement as the air lifts and lightens its humid grip rising early to greet crisp, chilly mornings with socked feet and hot mugs held tightly in cold hands Spiced apple cider and gathering together to face the winter slowly creeping closer crafting grinning pumpkins to keep the growing darkness at bay Learning to allow myself to enjoy this season despite the inevitable mental decline ahead bravely barreling toward the frigid cold while celebrating another successful season in the sun
Passenger
A coyote cuts across the foggy highway a life held inside indecision, a moment's hesitation could be a violent end of everything all at once Sulfurous air that once shrouded out the sun a sudden impact that swallowed the earth in many decades of dark, lifeless winter Time has a way of emphasizing the absurdity of right and wrong when final outcomes are impossible to predict Half the suffering I've known has been an inner upheaval of moral outrage resistance to the evils of this world My stormy turmoil subsides if only I can learn to surrender all judgement and accept my place as a humble passenger Who am I to hold dominion over the way life is supposed to unfold? I prefer the role of patient witness anyway To watch with curious eyes and an open heart ready to embrace all of life with equanimity a grateful submission to existence beyond understanding To play my small part with a soft hand extending a gentle, hopeful intention of pure love prepared to let go of any and all expectations Tender feet along the balustrade, balancing between engagement and surrender too often falling into indignation and anger The perpetual repetition of life can be tedious but it offers endless chances to keep trying precious lessons linger behind a door that is always open Every failure is an opportunity to find grace there is no permanence, perfection, or wasted effort everything is as it should be, everything is as it should be