Wanderling❁

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sunlight, why do you pretend to be my enemy

wind, why do you fight to steal my warmth

 

sister, why do you question yourself

we are creation trying to reunite

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first love

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though the silent ache

sinks deeper

with every dream

gentle night

made of stars

can never regret, being

the crimson sky

and neither can I

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I ride to her edge on my ghost horses

and beg her to take me as I am

the ritual begins, turning the ocean into a vessel

for secrets, my previous lives

desires, worries

I empty them into the sea

watch her swallow what I could not

and she gives repentance with the tide

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all the hours I have spent

fighting over which me I should be

sitting on the shores of my own world

I might have been running instead

spinning dreams, seeds into flowers

holding my grandmother's hand

and speaking the only words that matter

but here I am, now

too tired to fight with my selves

concerned more with which me I could be

if I can just use these hands

during the next blood red sunrise,

and create a house of clouds

to hold all the chatter, and focus,

on only being, being, being

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photo: Monastery beach, California, december 2020

tender heart

 

 

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silent spirits, forgive me

for disturbing your temple of snow

I speak my weakness, hunger

to walk, to see, to feel

beauty frozen in time

and to never grow old

but you, your arms hunched over

in little mountains of indifference

or houses of pain

I want to whisper to you, how much

I regret, all the memories I ache to undo

but say nothing

only emotion echoes from my bones

rattling the trees

graciously, snow swallows all the sound

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photo: alpine lakes wilderness, Washington, november 2020

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rain is blue, and medicinal

wandering is, too

rocking back and forth in my grief

finding a soft spot to sleep

and before dreaming, I swell

empty myself open

receiving hollow sounds

of old bird calls and

a thousand stories

resting in the mortar

to be ground, by dreams

back to life

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photo: Crater Lake National Park, October 2020

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he was never an easy child to love

"but I'm grateful that you do."

and her fears were higher than his reach

"but I feel safer when you're near."

my angry words were tears

that never turned to water

when I was young.

"but thank you for hearing me."

I'm sorry.

I love you.

Please forgive me.

Thank you.

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I laugh, like God. fireflies scatter at the sound to reveal a sorrowful horizon. but the mountain, she endures. I see her laugh, like God. if only they knew.

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photo: sunset, Crater Lake National Park, july 2020

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I am sitting barefoot in the grass

watching the sun sit on everything

and my heart is breaking

it sits, on the skin of a sleeping man's bare back

on the nervous light green leaves covering the oak branches above my head

on a parked car, making a silver-streaked glare that waters my eyes

on a crumpled orange kite trapped in a tree

on my own two feet moving in and out of shadow as the clouds come and go

and the sun, it sits

and my heart is breaking

to let in the light.

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I wonder what it might feel like to swim

bare naked in space

darkness hugging my skin from all sides

before my waters freeze and I shatter

and I wonder if I have felt this infinite drowning, on Earth

when I hold my pains like a knot of fire

blazing in a sunken woman's chest

and all the cries unspoken are pressing at my edges

but I say nothing, and carry on

maybe, in the night sky, I am destined to break

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