Never Forgotten

Note that many Seasons have turn,

As second hand sticks, have grown dizzy,

Stuck in time.

And now, there are lines plowed,

At the corner of Trade and Main,

They once were paved .

Those streets.

Now cracked by millions of smiles.

Also, a few tears.

We’ve both gathered flames, since last we spoke.

But somehow, those flames,

Lost their dance on the crowded plateaus.

Oh, time, that fiendish mute!

Stalking, stealing, and brands me a slave as I continue my wait.

You must have missed your train?

Maybe from the cracked streets?

Or maybe time, stole you away.

But for me, as I tell it now:

You are never forgotten.

How could you be?

Even in edges of thoughts,

Though they might have developed sepia and yellow,

I will always think of you on this day.

This is the day.

These are the memories.

And I will crack another street remembering.

~m

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Coming Home

There came a little nudge.

At first just a tingle,

Starting in that long forgotten, aperture of my mind.

 

Aging quickly here in my ordinary encephalon jungle.

The illuminating truth

Independently hijacks my stagnation

 

A flooding brightness of a third-eye.

The tingle now growing electric

Opens and awakes

 

The power of enchantment

The ignition of ancient stars,

Who flirt and wink to one another

Across the infinity of gods,

share their foregone secrets

They gift to us.

 

I now have knowledge

A legacy-

A sight.

The air that flows inside me,

giving me precious life

also gave life to primeval creatures before,

and will give existence to all that will ever be.

 

Their love, gave me my love.

And my love will give the future love.

We all are one.

From beginning, to end.

We have always existed and will always be.

 

The twinge, now growing vital

with the rhythm of my blood.

Expands my soul

Climbing

Accelerating

past possible bellows.

Gilding my veins with ancient magic.

 

He is coming home.

I feel it,

I feel him.

I know it as truth, and tremble.

 

My Divine is coming home.

 

~m

Rebirth of a Warrior

Modestly, I have to come to acknowledge:

I am a woman.

 

But more,

I am a soul in a human form.

Inside I glow.

Though I have been rent in-two with my birth

Exposing

I am an Empress

Tendered with abundant, arcane knowledge.

 

But also, I am an Emperor.

Father of myself

No longer ignoring my intuition.

Ruling my chosen path.

 

And finally accepting: it is not a sole journey

But it is one, we all travel alone.

For I am a soul, traveling wholly

for the sake of love.

Self-love

To collect inside

Awareness of the Divine.

 

Within my arms,

You will find a hidden strength

Constructed from love

Mastered by heartache.

My courage has been forged by fear

My persistence established from failure

 

I am born of stars

Always meant to light the way,

To find my union again

 

The daughter of God,

I am saved by grace.

The sister of earth,

It is mine to protect and cherish.

And Eternal mother to all,

For love is what saves me in the end.

 

Yes, I am a woman.

But I am also you.

 

~m

 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

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