Must be the reason of the witch…

Must be the reason of the witch…

We will walk with the many or the few, on the roads that were given no names.

To dead-end streets. And cul-de-sacs. And loop-de-loos.

Off of highways and off of beaten tracks and down every dirty path, we will ride the yellow lines as we please.

Be it swerving from lane to lane, or running barefoot in the middle and in the way, or bumming a ride in and off to the side.

We will ride, we will walk, we will dance but not hide.

We will call out your name just as you drive by, and when you look back we’ll be sure to disperse with the dark of the night.

To places unknown, perhaps roads unseen.

We will follow the signs of such named roads, only to tear the last bit of them down, and rip the posts from out of the ground.

We will ensure to never follow or get swept by those forged signs no more.

We will walk across pavement and soften or shake it, we’ll crack it and break it and then we’ll remake it.

We will make our own signs and place them where we please, or maybe we’ll toss them to the hands that wave with the breeze, or we’ll send them in bottles out to the seas.

We will ride as fast as we want, or even just as slow.

Speed has never been an issue, because we are the pace and this is our show.

We will hold out our thumbs, but that could all be a trick.

Upon unknown roads with names that only we would be told, we will float and we will linger and we will never show you a way that you could ever call quicker.

Be it up-hill or down, or straight across or all around, in circles and through round-abouts, we’ll show you the way.

We will walk with the many or the few, or we will walk alone or we will walk with you.

You decide, you follow the signs.

But only if you’ve ripped them up from out the ground, and are following the rhythm of your very own sound.

The one that beats inside of your heart, found on the road or out of the lines or inside the lanes or resting between the window’s panes.

We will run across pavement with all of our toes.

Over painted tracks and little stones, on all of the roads that have ever or have never been known.

Upon all of the roads that were given not but a name, we will walk along them, and they’ll never remain just quite the same.

 

as mesmerizing as the stars…

as mesmerizing as the stars…

When do you find who you truly are?

Is it when you look up and gaze upon the stars?

Or is it when you see the fire of the sun setting and burning before your eyes?

Is it when you’re crying in the silence of all of the answers that hide in plain sight?

Or is it when you’re belly full of laughter and a cocktail of love and friends and bliss?

Is it when you find yourself feeling cold and left alone under the darkness of the night?

Or is it when you find the light and the switch that controls if the light is dim or bright?

Is it when you feel completely pulled and pushed to your limits?

Or is it when you discover that you have no limits, you’ve never had limits, and limits are no such thing?

Is it when you’re in the depths of despair and dancing with a broken heart?

Or is it when you’re riding high on the wings of your dreams in a sky you’ve never before seen?

Is it when you’ve been knocked down and you’re not sure how to get back up?

Or is it when you get back up and see that your legs shake less and carry you much stronger than before?

Is it when you see your reflection in the ripples of the calm sea?

Or is it when you float upon the sea and get swept away and see 13 shooting stars?

When do you find who you truly are?

Is it when you see a glimpse of yourself in the shooting stars?

Or is it when you see that you yourself are as mesmerizing as they are?

When do you find who you truly are?

Perhaps it is when you find that you are far, far beyond what you would ever think you are.

 

a wild woman on Wednesday morning…

a wild woman on Wednesday morning…

And so I ran and I ran and I ran. I ran through the dewy grass of the yard and into the back of the wood. I ran and I ran and I ran. Like a wild woman would. Like I would.

I threw the papers down to the ground from the grip of my left hand. I threw down the jar of my last sips of bitter black coffee from the grip of my right hand. I threw it away and I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran.

Continue reading “a wild woman on Wednesday morning…”

I am a woman who slays the definition of what you think that is…

I am a woman who slays the definition of what you think that is…

I am a woman who slays the idea and expectation of what you think that is.

I will devour all my desires and let the juices run down my chin.

I am a woman who dances with lions and hunts with wolves.

I am playing with the fire of a thousand plus a thousand suns.

I will strike you down with my blow, and lift you up with my grace.

I am a woman aware of and confident in my strengths.

I am a woman who shows you what you once could not see.

I will show you the darkness of the night so to bestow the light of me.

I am the darkness that lurks in the night.

I am the light creating the day.

I will show you what it’s like to dance with the rapture of ecstasy.

I am ecstasy.

I am everything.

I will reflect bad and good and all that’s in between.

I am a woman covered in mud and dirt yet shining brighter than a silver lining.

I am a woman who surrenders to the pull of the wild and the stream.

I will enjoy my ride and I might try to take you with me.

I am a woman wearing the blood of the moon.

I am on fire and burning brighter than the sun.

I will blind you if you keep the veil over your eyes.

I am a woman who will swallow you whole if it feels right.

I am a woman who can’t be held back and is always three steps ahead.

I will slay the definition of what you think a woman is, and show you a real one instead.

Rhapsody for the wild and free…

Rhapsody for the wild and free…

We’re doing fine 

we’re doing great 

as long as we’re excited. 

This is our time 

this is our space

It’s where we were invited.

We get hungry

We get thirsty

We tell ourselves 

There are worse things.

Tangled and untangled

All of the time.

On the fishing line

The fishing line

The fishing here is fine.

We dapple in a dance

Find romance

In a sea of fantasy

Magical serendipity.

We are cells 

Within a master brain

Within the master brain 

Within something too far for you to explain.

Using eye 1

Eye 2

Eye 3

Seeing how we want to see

All the pretty little things 

But really

You is me

And 

Us is we

And really all the little things,

We’ve always known,

Don’t mean a thing..

So maybe for a minute

We could let ourselves do our thing

Without questioning

And just do our damn thing.

That thing that feels good

Like we know we should 

Whatever it is.

Like dancing in the stars

Or doing too much of one thing

Just making memories 

Cause we’re all in the same scheme.

We’ve come too far

To disregard what we do

Who we are

What we know and always knew.

Don’t tell me to nap

When I want to live

I’ve got the map

Always have, always did.

I know where I’m going

Where I’ve been

What I’ve done.

I’ve been watching all of you

All your secrets

All your fun

What ever it is

It’s what we’re all doing

From the start to the middle and the finish

We’re unwinding we’re unglueing.

We were drunk off of love 

And falling into ourselves 

Open to the awareness

That it would all ring your bell.

Let your palms get slippery

Get wild and dirty

Or quiet down

-sit back

Revel in your purity.

We’re playing the game 

Whichever way we want to

And we win in the end

Cause we did what we came to.

And you may think

You’re separate from me

With your mystery and trickery

But really it’s just you and me.

And it isn’t even that

It’s all of us

Right here right now

And before 

And before

And we are more

Than we ever gave us credit for.

I’ll meet you at the door

With the key

To what you look for.

Lust and love

And milk and eggs

And booze and songs from

Another age.

It’s dripping

Like

Honey or sap

However you want it

It’s like that.

We are the seasons…

We are the seasons…

The sun sauntered into the starry sky and pulled me from my slumber. I looked into the sea of layered saturations and saw familiar colors, with shades of new. The birds told each other stories, fully aware to their very core that a shift was in the air. A time of harvest was upon us.

The sun rose higher that morning as she controlled the movement of moments, and the heart of the day. She spoke so loud, with a message so clear that the wind charged forth with perhaps an even louder response. And we would spend the day listening to their exchange of wisdoms. Guided by their messages. Continue reading “We are the seasons…”

I am free and forever…

I am free and forever…

I come forth through the elements as a force – electrified by pulses of love and flashes of light. Grounded in the fleeting presence of moments in motion. Stupefied and mesmerized by the magic of this synchronized dance.

I hold with me the key to all that ever was and will be. It’s in the rhythm of my heart beat. It’s in my dreams and in my sleep. In the way the birds and I speak. That is me. Continue reading “I am free and forever…”