Breathing

It’s called breathing

But in the intellectual sense.

 

Our lives are a series of up and downs.

Hills of highs

Canyons of lows.

You come together for the highs.

Falling apart for the lows

Only to come together again to climb.

Learning that you will let go, again.

In. Out. In. Out.

Breathing.

 

Each time you heal, you make room for more ‘air’.

Growing. Ascending.

Shrinking. Humbling.

Each growing season gives room for joy.

To make room as you exhale for sorrow

To balance for a winter rest.

 

So next time you hear, breathe.

Think balance.

Full circle.

Each revolution

Each gain

Each loss

Each rebirth

Each death

It all fertilizes our spiritual bodies

It gives us purpose

To awaken more

 

It’s life

It’s the gateway to transforming.

It’s breathing.

 

~m

 

 

 

 

 

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Metamorphosis

Image result for butterfly art

White Admiral Waltz by Torie Tiffany

 

Butterfly flutter:

Blithe, enlightened, wild, and wise

Now knows his purpose.

 

~m

 

Beyond Realms of Scars

Tell me what lies beneath in the realms of the not awake,

And of my forgotten scars of despairing heartache.

Those that are hidden deep and shielded inside,

Injuries gorged sanguinary, those that gape endlessly wide.

But yet those beasties embed often indelibly,

Their memories used often, and as foreign weaponry.

Broken records that mean to skip in the same root scratch,

Keep our ghost alive, so they can strike the torturing match.

Conserving me secured, in a living but numb hell,

Not knowing if its the agony or the acrid smell.

While remembering a touch from the one….

                                  that still burns my skin.

Along with the hurts that lay larva, their new life itching to begin.

Deformed am I in anguish, letting the hopeless bugs crawl,

Crawling out of the cracks of sorrow, I watch helplessly in awe.

Resisting transformation to a beautiful broken creature,  but I will succumb,

For it is inevitable, even as I hide, that I will triumph but regretfully overcome.

 

 

~m

 

~For John

When I say- I love you.

I don’t say it to save you.

                                                                                                                 -I say it to destroy myself-

The old self,

The restricted self,

And my intolerant self.

I say those words-

Not because of you,

                                                                                                         -I say it to awaken-

To be reborn,

Leaning on self acceptance,

For my ascension to my providence.

 

But it is because of you-

That I now glow from within from the light of stars.

                                                                                                   -And because of  you-

 I will arise as a warrior worthy of love.

~m

 

Stubborn Sweet Waltz

Echos will always mirror, what was before.

Those holographic shimmers of hope, now fade in low light.

But still they serenade me so sweetly to my dreams, we were meant to waltz.

Strength fights with insecurity- oh, stubborn you!

Your voice yet remembered, casting tomorrow into prized mercury glass.

But fondly, I bow.

It is why I still love-

Those beautiful cracks of your speckled perfection!

The ones you thought you hid, they have always been my undoing.

The little boy, in need of a strong love of unquestioned redemption.

West or is it south? No bother, it’s all your wake I travel.

Despite turning cartwheels, trying to play with my head,

I would shake you from my heart, but you are rooted green!

For it’s that dreamy mountain haze, on cotton clouds I still recline for you.

Absent, I will continue to win blue ribbons,  and tie up my hair.

Waiting for double walls that call for our dance,

For the record, those stirring strings will betoken my return.

 

~m

 

 

 

 

 

 

He Found Me

He found me.

While I was sitting alone in suffering silence.

 

I was surrounded by old friends in comfort:

Loss, regret and loneliness.

 

Over the years of my lives, I had earned their trust and respect,

That they now offered me companionship every hour.

 

And I was content with them.

They were loyal friends.

 

Their familiarity,  a balm of ritual.

That, is when he found me.

 

That, is when he loved me.

 

Not for my failed beauty.

But for my solitude.

 

For he was the same.

 

He saw my peace, and fell.

 

~m

Fledgling

Gift from My Love Completed by kamillyonsiya

(Gift from My Love by kamillyonsiya on Deviant Art)

 

 

Oh mockingbird- why do you laugh,

With forlorn magic under your hat?

The universe spirals the wheel of spoils,

Yet your quills write love-songs, teased with coil.

Hide beneath your feathers, those rare rainy jewels.

They’re tiny glittering teardrops, of hopeful fairy dew.

Do you see me, or do you foretell my mimicking potential?

Of loving him forever,  for knowing him is consequential.

His elegant smile- opens my great fortress of shade.

And pulls forgotten blooms forward: creating abundance of wildflower glades.

He makes me fly with kind words, and not flattery.

Collecting twigs for his nest, I am his home, eternally.

 

 

~m

Stormy Sea- the madness of depression

Image result for stormy sea art

(The Gulf Stream by Winslow Homer 1899)

 

Asphalt whispers, of buzzed bees.

Who flew too fast in search of knees,

Quicksand beaches, hide titanic eggs.

While ostrich feathered rainbows, served the kegs.

‘The Captain, must always stay with his ship!’

Screamed the first mate, as she cracked her whip.

We’re all drowning in someone else’s crisis.

Climbing like monkeys up the community ficus.

So who else can save us, except for ourselves?

Hard lessons two-stepped, inside of a bluish hell!

Let the music play as we sink our own boats,

I’ll be in the corner, singing parenthesis in quotes.

Stay in the saddle with your lassoed otter.

Ride waves for 8 seconds, with your chin just above water.

Only to wake up unexpectedly parched.

With everything white, and perfectly starched.

 

 

~m

 

The Queen of Fire

Image result for rebirth from fire art       (The Phoenix by Boris Vallejo)

 

The Queen of Fire

 

When shaky legs,

Balance normal.

Co-dependent chaos,

Sever formal.

Magic- hiding,

All along.

With fortitude,

Inherited strong

Rickety scaffold,

Must burn to ashes.

Training wheels:

Thought to save the gashes?

Hurt your ability,

In living broken.

Tears now stain,

You feel them choking.

But think of them,

As spring time rain.

Watering souls-garden,

Knowledge ascertained.

You forever endure:

Called the Queen of fire!

Rare blessing of bravery,

Keep your kingdom inspired.

Hold your head high,

Let them see your pain.

Beautiful goddess of fire,

Your soul is arcane.

~m

 

Imbue

I’m never not looking or waiting for you:

 

Bold crickets serenade the watching moon,

And I think of you.

Gentle breezes lift tiny curls on my crown,

And I feel your understanding touch.

The smell of the first heavy raindrops from a frantic summer storm,

And I taste the charged flavor of you.

 

You dance with all my unseen senses through nature,

And instinctively I open my lungs, my mind, and my heart.

Absorbing the tenderness of my emotion,

Swallowing your sentiment.

I no longer curse the subtle connections,

That tether us, not allowing desuetude of soul.

 

Come to me my love:

In animal song, in playful breeze and in savory rolling thunder.

Breathe into me inspiration.

Evoke and awaken forgotten connection,

Submerge me away with abstract hope ever so gently.

Believe.

The warmth of the sun holds the golden glitter of our hearts,

That innocent children delight and color their worlds in.

 

~m