I Wonder…

Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to imagine things than to actually live them. Since your imagination can run wild and conjure up things that your life can’t. I guess I didn’t mean for that to sound so dark, but I’m truly curious, you know?

Advertisements

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.

Intertidal Pools of Sun

Barefoot amidst the movement of lapping, cold waves—a gentle soul walks onward into the ocean. Mangrove branches loop out from the water and marine alluvium soils. Tiny fish grow within the intertidal zone, protected by the plants and disrupted by her calm feet digging into the sand. Hair wild amidst the cool sun rays softly kissing each eye into a deeper caramel hue. The water against her strong ankles as low pools fill and recede into the Earth. Gusts pick up cooling a body flowing in tandem with the ocean waves as the heart connects to the soul of the ocean.

Super Blood Wolf Moon

The fronds rustling in the chilled air and a wolf’s moon gently watches as I inhale and exhale smoke from within my soul and out towards the night sky. She looks down with her red face soon to be eclipsed and a secret nod occurs between us. She is a protector—moon goddess—and I am a loyal servant. In my sensuality I extol rituals in her name as invisible, glittering strings grow from within me and dissipate into energy like the smoke exiting my lungs. Each breath is an intention, each inhale is a collected pool of energy brought further in to my body. The moon wears a red veil and I am naked, barren without need for shrouds. No clouds exist between us now and soon we will become one.

Morning Reverie

It is in the last falling drop of rain that I remember the reasons between transitions. The last few molecules are the ones that mix between the coolness of the water and the warmth of the sun finally starting to peek through the clouds. It is those dissipating pieces of fluff that connect you to the world above and that one below all within the layers of the atmosphere—so think…which route will you take?

 

Many of these moments are combined with tantalizing thoughts of what is and what has been, thoughts of what will be quietly hidden away in the breaths that I take. I find myself waiting for a lightning strike to shake me into action. I find myself seeking out fast-moving clouds in a late morning sky where all that you see is gray and movement even though you know the sun should have been visible by now. It is I who waits like the hydrated ground while the raindrops falling from the leaves gently pummel my surface like a persistent knock at my door—the truth is waiting to get in.