A-sexual,
this is what
it can feel like
to be menopausal.
What use to be
exquisitely
sensitive
has deadened.
no amount of
stimulation
will it
reawaken.
not one for
medication,
I bide my time
with
meditation.
Such is Life:
The Lord giveth
and He taketh
away and then
returneth
another day,
as per
His Way.
buried deep
inside,
a part of self
wishing only
to hide,
preferring to
“live”
a lie.
how to see
it
let alone speak
it–
that,
which altered
a Life.
innocence
forever lost,
a new trajectory
is now forced.
but not
without
a heavy cost.
one can only run
from The Truth
but so far
before it
festers and scars.
An untold story
will travel from life to life,
causing all matters
of angst and strife
until it is
revealed,
brought
finally
to the Light.
A Line–
like a Life–
can go anywhere.
It can go up or down,
remain straight,
or around and around
like a labyrinth
in which
one at first feels lost
then found.
i look in the mirror
and feel old–
outdated
faded.
i am looking through the lens of fatigue,
a tired body is ill at ease,
not always accurately does its mind perceive.
pulchritude has never been my currency,
the first thing most people see in me-
that which lent validity.
living in a world that places so much value
on physical appearance,
i mastered the art of dis-appearance–
learning to hide deep inside;
shrink from severe lack of confidence;
stuff the pain with food
in lieu of alcohol or cocaine.
now, I mature,
a process treated with great contempt,
as if it were manure.
the gift of getting older
is that One gets bolder!
You tend to give
less of a fuck
to the ego
and the others
who think you just plain suck.
Ain’t nobody got the time
for that drama and fuss.
More Love
this is what the world
needs more of.
More time spent together
remembering we are
keepers of each other.
We’re all made of the same stuff,
crafted from sanctified dust;
unique yet the same,
OneLove with different names.
In you, I see my divinity;
In me, you see your humanity.
We are but mere mirrors –
brothers, sisters.
We must re-member
What We Really Are,
never from our Light
shall we stray too far.
More Love
that is what our world
craves more of-
give It,
receive It,
preach It,
commit
to
Love.
Make It your religion,
your only reason for being.
Two Friends
on a beach
walking,
talking,
planning,
dreaming,
birthing
their visions
into existence.
One Friend,
compelled by her Soul’s necessity;
The Other,
moved by an insatiable curiosity.
Both,
desiring to leave behind
an indelible legacy-
to inspire,
empower,
unleash creativity;
to free the masses
from contraction and boredom
by en-couraging
expansion and freedom!
These two friends
on that beach
were destined to meet,
brought together
by old friends
now deceased.
The story continues
until it is
complete.
i must see myself
as part of The Wave,
not some outlier to be saved
from this swarm of humanity
and its seeming insanity.
to most every body,
this frenzied activity
is really quite ordinary.
though, not to me –
a Soul that craves
tranquility;
the one that runs from the grind,
just trying to find
much less human density.
must do so quickly,
lest risk immediate psychic misery.
“Oh Lord, help me to perceive differently,”
i pray, so that i may longer stay
in the place where i am free,
not enslaved by a trickster ego
playing devious jokes on me!
To most, she is seen as sweet,
angelic and gracious.
To some, she is perceived as bitter,
mischievous, and a tad imperious.
Over there, her presence elicits
captivation and glee!
Here, she is an irksome mystery
from which all wish to quickly flee!
It all depends
on the spectator lens,
the time of day,
the way
the wind bends.
Not about her;
it is simply
a matter
of subjectivity.
She, sensitive in nature,
must re-call
the most challenging agreement
of them all:
Take no thing personally.
“It is not about me,”
she must come to see,
so as to not suffer needlessly,
drowning in an abyss of sheer misery.
To live peacefully,
to walk confidently,
to do righteously,
she must be steeped
only
in He.
PRAY,
allow God
to show you
His Way,
His Plan,
His Hand.
There’s no need
for you to understand.
Simply surrender
to The Will
of your Creator,
The One who sees
far and wide.
What, then,
is a better guide
to how one lives and thrives
on this journey
called
Life.
Twists and turns,
scars and burns,
new lessons
constantly re-learned.
Such is the stuff
of a Life,
that crooked path of a spirit made flesh.
And so, we humbly relent,
look up, only to the sky
for consistent help.
PRAY.
Listen.
Do only what He says.
before making Its way down to Earth,
does the Soul know if it will embody
a master or a dabbler?
one for whom
destiny is crystal clear
while for the other,
purpose is a vague, elusive idea?
the master is crafted for a particular task;
the dabbler meanders-
no set directive or path.
is one gifted,
the other cursed?
one disciplined,
the other trifling?
no wrong,
no right;
simply the story of a Life,
the lyrics of a Soul’s unique song.
burgeoninc 