Sometimes, I’m sitting around, feeling off or unsettled or confounded, when a sentence fragment appears in my consciousness. If I can remember it and write it down, it grows. I just take dictation, more or less. Sometimes I have to look up the words, especially if they seem out of time. They’re always right. Anyway, this one started with a bit I didn’t end up using. It went like this:
She knows I don’t want to
She knows I don’t have to
She doesn’t mind
But they do
“They” are my thoughts, the voices I don’t like hearing. The ones who compare me, push me, shove me, bully me into darkness, where I can linger if I don’t take the time to become utterly present. Once I write out the full “poem” or advice, as I like to call it, I feel seen, heard and calm. Connected. Then, for several days usually, I integrate, and that almost always feels like doubt, indecision, fear, and whatever else tries to interfere with my vibe. I think what really happens is I tap into something with the writing that scares me on some level, and everything in me fights it, even as I desire this connection. Go figure. Anyway, maybe you get something from the words, maybe you don’t. Either way, I hope your inner voices are kind to you.
She Knows
They’re loud and busy, buzzing bees
Blasting through their days, they tease
The magic out of everything
Until the night releases them
Into sleep, the real thing
They think, until dawn comes again
When all begins, repeats its course
Through the hours, no remorse
For flying by the wings in trees
Running over grass and leaves
Set there in the blazing sun
Mirage, the hazy vision comes
Or not, depending on the goal
To master the untended soul
At this late hour, hold their hand
And let the knowing rise and land
It could have been
I might have seen
They say with glossy words
So thin, to hear the birds
Now, not before
It’s fine to go, to reach the door
Knowing that you saw the light
Even if for just one night
When all of it came crashing in
The point, the truth, the lies, the sin
All form a phantom, fancy roles
We play to find the way back home
Clearly it was all a ruse
Planned by you, your guide, your muse
To set upon the Earth once more
Reaching for the golden door
Not outside in, but inside out
Planting seeds in rows of doubt
Stalks of wisdom, joyful strands
Patterns shifting, trust the plan
To weave ourselves into the day
Where lovers come to watch the play
Knowing how we fit together
Awake, aware, truly tethered
To sky and stars, crystals, flowers
Beyond the ticking of the hours
Earthly forms, they come and go
While she lives on in peace, she knows
