Sunday, December 31, 2006

when was it that hearing the wind began to frighten me?
as a child, i relished it’s strength, loved listening to where it had been

now it speaks to me in different languages
in its unstoppable force, i hear my mortality,
in its battering of the roof top and shaking of the windows, i hear my fears

perhaps i need to go out, to leave my pretend shelter of wood and glass
and meet it in its environment,
and introduce myself to it again...

Saturday, December 30, 2006

vulnerabilty....

a scary place to be
for most of us..
we teach ourselves
to be impenetrable
we pride ourselves
on self-sufficiency,
to not need others

and in doing so,
we deny our spirits...
sometimes it's the saying of things
aloud
that makes them true...
that's why we hold back
giving voice to what we know....
because
what we make true
creates who we are

and

sometimes the saying of things
aloud
frees us from self-constructed prisons....
because
giving voice to our experience
allows
us to let it go....
and we then
(re) create who we are

Thursday, December 28, 2006

you help me
to make the small forays
out of myself

by lending me
your sight
of this world

by being
who you are

by just being....
my narcotic

was
to go numb...
don't feel
it's too intense
afraid i'd get lost in my mind
never to touch
reality again

the problem with choosing to feel nothing
over feeling the darkness
is that
i'd trained myself,
quite adroitly,
to also question
joy,
and love

i'd chosen perception
over reality,
control
over risking

i'm risking now,
but only a little,
baby steps

i want
to be who
i am
on the inside

i want
to shout out
to the world
what's inside my head
what's inside my heart

i want
to let go
to live it fully
to not be afraid

i want...
like i said,
baby steps...

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

family

what is it that binds us?
shared memories?
but versions
of our histories
invariably differ.

common references then
to a past recollected....

seeing each other
through a veil
of previous experience

what would we
think of one another
without
the recollections
of what went before?

it’s not the blood that connects us
it’s the choice
to remain,
to be,
family