Give It away!
For It does not belong to you.
You are but the vessel It flows through.
It chooses you, coming seemingly
out of the blue
to awaken and amuse.
“Give Me away!”
It begs.
“I was not meant to remain hidden in your head,
dormant, because you are afraid.
I come from a place that is nothing but pure.
Hence, no need for you to be insecure.”
Yield
your
Fruit,
just give it all away-
that which you came
here
to do,
to say.
Don that suit
with only your name on it.
Bring that song
you were crafted to sing.
Return to the dust
from whence you came
emptied
-with absolutely
no thing
left within.
Go home utterly spent-
’tis the only way
to live a life content.
Wake me up when I am free,
I was not crafted
for captivity
born of conformity.
Like a Great Bird in a cage,
I cannot the world engage
in a matter that is authentically
and fully
me.
Instead, this being is muted,
stifled
dead,
of no real use,
head in a noose.
An existence without passion,
no rhyme nor reason
meandering season upon season.
New show, same cast;
all one can do is laugh.
A comedy of errors,
it all seems,
like a relentless bad dream.
And yet…
moments of bliss,
scattered here and there.
Glimpses of deep peace-
no worries, no cares-
as if no skin, one is only air.
Such times,
they are
so utterly delicious,
mightily precious.
Hold on to those
like the world’s most fragrant rose.
A reminder of what is possible,
preferable,
desirable:
Freedom
to be
Me-
who I really am
in service
to a much Higher
Purpose.
To no longer play small,
answering only to a Divine
inner
Call.
Down with the ubiquitous cubicles,
those notorious
killers,
containers
of the Soul!
Please wake me when I am free.
For, I cannot bear the indignity
of any
captivity.
I
Inspiration: Wake me When I am Free–Poem: Tupac Shakur, Music: Babatunde Olatunji
A time spent
in deep contemplation,
in preparation
for what God
to the world
sent:
A Love Divine
came from up high
to make fully flesh
The Word;
to demonstrate
prayers are indeed heard
and prophesies fulfilled
as per His time
and perfect will.
Emmanuel-
Hallelujah,
our God dwells
among us all!
Born humbly
in the House of Bread,
He came to save,
to minister,
to transform
the thoughts
the darkness
residing, hiding
in our head,
imploring we chose-
instead-
only Love
only Light
-always
until the end
of our human days.
It’s written all over your Face
why you occupy
this space,
in this time.
in this body,
in This Moment
in your-story.
There are no accidents-
such is widely evident.
We are,
each one of us,
called forth,
summoned.
Here,
to re-member
what we really are,
to dispel others’ truths
that became our scars.
Here,
to re-call
our shared humanity,
our One Soul.
Artist: Pablo Picasso
Whoa!
Another week
has passed
so quick,
so fast
at a pace,
I can’t seem to grasp!
One minute, it is Monday-
the thought: how will I last?
The next minute, Friday,
relief, some time to relax!
Bittersweet is
the end of the week.
Some joy,
some pain.
Many questions
remain:
Did I get
what I was to learn?
Did I summon
enough nerve
to truly serve?
Where did I grow?
Where was maturation slowed?
What parts of me
do I transform and release?
Next breath never guaranteed,
nor is any day of next week.
It’s Friday,
the day to savor
the short respite,
to pivot
and change perspective.
Go in,
give in,
make way and waves;
like a voodoo chile
filled with Light and smiles
play and create-
these are the mandates
of
Fridays.
The middle child,
the second
in a Girl Tribe
made of three;
born into a
matriarchal family.
She has a
distinct,
special pedigree.
A quintessential
Scorpio, She is
often perceived
aloof,
not so easy to know.
One minute,
She herself
to others
shows;
and the next-
poof–
off She goes,
traveling into
that sublime mind,
not intending
to be cruel and unkind-
unless betrayed
or played,
then out comes
the devastating hand grenades!
Beware of the Scorpio sting,
her bite
her weapon
to protect
her gentle heart,
her sensitive skin.
A relatively quiet Soul,
this one as Prodigal
privately known-
a familial moniker
for this magical
misunderstood
wanderer.
Many secrets
held tight
under her beautiful exterior.
To unlock,
to enter her interior,
sustained trust,
an absolute must!
Once inside,
much and rich
treasures to find-
fierce loyalty,
staunch integrity,
stunning efficiency,
endless creativity.
So blessed am I
to take this life’s journey
with She,
to walk together
hand in hand,
feet to feet!
Sculpture by American-born British sculptor Sir Jacob Epstein.
Poem dedicated to my beloved sister, Prodigal – much love and many thanks!
how do I
adequately
describe
what it feels like
inside
when I look
elephant
in the eyes?
It is as if
elephant
is kin,
as if we share
the
exact
same
skin!
My heart flutters,
a sudden
recognition
it utters
at the
sight of
elephant.
My Soul leaps
as it greets
an essential piece
long buried-
very deep.
A sigh of relief;
the end of a subtle grief;
a mystical reunion
is of what I speak
when
elephant
and I
meet.
Have never traveled a straight line,
couldn’t even draw one if I tried.
This life was crafted
crooked and jagged.
No point A neatly to a point B;
more like A to C
then up to Z
and suddenly,
back down
to B.
A dance of seeming spontaneity
created by chosen opportunity.
A restless Soul,
too many interests it holds;
relentlessly driven
to learn, grow and sow;
chasing adventure
so as
for itself
to know.
No desire to live vicariously,
in putting off pleasure
in the name of responsibility.
No, that ain’t me!
I yearn to fly,
to be free,
to self-express fully
with utmost authenticity.
Such a Soul as this
can never happily exist
confined
for a lifetime
within walls
narrow
straight
and tall.
Such an existence
much too small,
into The Abyss,
said Soul
would soon fall.
imagine a life devoid of pleasure, of great joy?
what would be the point?
an elder once shared
that pleasure is an indulgence
reserved for the blessed few with no cares.
“life is about duty and obligation,” elder declared.
even naïve, at the cusp of adulthood,
i knew deep inside that this was a flagrant falsehood.
no, that would not be my truth to bear.
for me, pleasure would be as essential as water and air.
unlike said elder,
i’d tasted pleasure.
pleasure came a knockin’ on my door,
i’d let it right on in asked for more –
eagerly
hungrily
desperately
and unapologetically.
i soaked up pleasure as if it were buried treasure!
there was no going back,
no about-face,
for i’d grown too fond of pleasure‘s intoxicating taste.
i continue to seek you, pleasure
in your various guises and splendor-
to relish in you responsibly
and unselfishly,
sharing you widely.
for this i know with great certainty:
life will bring its bitters –
that is a given.
but,
it also generously provides the sweets
to make it all tolerable and mercifully even.
burgeoninc 