Dark Gray

Your true color is dark gray, muddy, half devoid of substance as if it couldn’t be enough. Your halo is gray and tilted to one side and I saw cracks in your demeanor. For a while I looked at myself and saw some of you reflected as I slowly turned light gray from a pure white. Your color is dark gray, beautiful, but grimy and it brings me down and I wonder what it must feel like to carry that weight with you of pouring out uncontrollably as you hold on to fragments from when you fell to the floor and shattered. I am an act of self-love, in constant motion, and ever so willing to give the little pieces of light that I hold in my hands, but I can’t share that light if all you’ll do is obscure my path.

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Hidden Groves

May the wind hold me for I am feeling quite tired. Perhaps it will carry me home into the grove filled with flowers and lay me down to sleep for a while. I have opened my chest and have let its contents spill out with sharp red rubies hoping that only good will come about.

May the sun come and dry away the cool rains that have woken me up from this charade.

Watery Reflections

So ethereal, the way the water pools into my cupped hands; its velvety caress and the cacophony of unpatterned rhythm lure me in to a tantric state. The being becomes what it surrounds itself with, the enlightenment comes from acceptance and awareness of this magical world around us. I am on a higher plane and outer space can be so refreshing.