though bruised and battered –
still Love
confused, befuddled, disheveled –
still Love
disheartened, disillusioned, disappointed –
still Love
unhinged, undone, unkempt –
still Love
perplexed, meandering, questioning – still Love
ignored, misunderstood, un-Loved –
still Love
in the noisy-ness and messy-ness of this Life –
still Love
in perceived isolation –
still Love
to the very last breath in encasement –
only Love ❤️
why does this word –
un-done –
resonate, always,
so deeply with me?
a distant memory?
a recent past Life?
a glimpse into a future?
no fear is felt –
rather, much anticipation;
the realization of a need;
a rite of passage;
an initiation;
a shedding;
re-birth:
a blessed second chance 🙏
dreamed last night
of a school bus 🚌
containing fifty-five passengers –
all Me.
different stages, faces, phases.
students – curious 🤔 and studious;
sensitive and pensive.
on a trip one bright day,
another school bus comes along.
suddenly, out of sight – bam!
“bodies every where!” some one screams.
on my school bus 🚌
frozen, in shock 😲
“why them, not us?”
fear is a Gate.
to where?
another realm,
a clearer lens,
an unimaginable
reality,
a new face,
a chance to awaken
and break
destructive cycles,
generational patterns,
and long expired
unconscious
contracts.
a different vibration –
more stillness
on this Side,
bliss-full contemplation,
grounded regulation,
time for deep integration,
leading to
coherence and its twin, remembrance.
Here too,
the surrender and freedom
that beckon
sweet Peace
from its longtime captor, fear.
what will it take
to study war no more?
how many precious Lives;
how much devastation;
to shed delusions
of “you”
“me”
“they”
“we”?
what will it take
to See
inter-sectionality,
inter-dependence,
inter-being;
that I am Me
because you are You?
how to be finally relieved
of this exhausting
burden and cycle of trauma
seeded in
retaliation
revenge
reactivity
dis-regulation
and perceived “wins”?
where is the Space
for cultivation of
mind-full
measured
response?
what will it take to just
STOP ✋️
consciously chose
LOVE
in lieu of hate?
when do we decide
we walk the paths much less trodden –
forgiveness, Truth, reconciliation?
what spells and prayers might we invoke,
sacred concoctions prepared
to awaken from our stubborn slumber,
to re-member our shared humanity,
banish war from our vocabulary,
curate abiding Peace ✌️ 🙏 only ❤️
I did not see You,
Mystical Eagle.
saw Your shadow –
dark
atop the green of the grass
in juxtaposition to the otherworldly
blue of Your Sky.
caught the outline of Your Wings –
wide open
confident
gliding.
even in shadow,
Eagle
enchants and emboldens.
family –
what does this word mean, really?
blood relations?
friendships?
resonance across space & time?
from the Latin word famulus,
denoting servant;
same root as familiar,
yet family can feel
more distant than stranger.
our people, our tribe,
our ride or die –
we so easily say,
but behave
often
in an entirely different way.
loneliness continues to rise
worldwide.
perplexed, we ask why
given so much connectivity.
might it be
because we
forget
how to be
how to do
family?
“Autobiography begins with a sense of being alone. It is an orphan form.”
― John Berger
human, you are multitudes –
elegant in essence,
an imperishable scent
and eternal resonance.
malleable and unpredictable;
always
shifting and morphing;
at once,
growing and dying,
unfolding and numbing,
emerging and regressing,
ordinary and exceptional,
embryo and silo;
an assemblage, one and the same –
yet, each unique, many different names.
human, you are
mystical, whimsical
curious, mysterious
practical, laughable
horrible, beautiful
radiant, tarnished
emotional, rational
gifted, stupid
immensely generous
and abundantly selfish;
transcendent and resistant,
so richly nourished
and yet stunningly famished:
trickster and teenager,
sages and fools –
humans, you are all
multitudes.
i am tired, Lord.
hold on.
hold on for what?
for Me.
i don’t know that i can…
you can; you have.
i am tired, Lord.
I know; hold on.
what’s it all about,
you coming into
this scared space
spewing your hate?
why not go outside
to the streets
into the Light –
strong and proud
expressing as you perceive:
that only white lives matter
all people of color
have “it” coming
that their lives mean nothing.
prayers to you,
for you truly know not
what it is you do.
you have forgotten
what You really are;
alas, you can see but so far-
only to the level of the skin
so utterly limited you are,
tightly constricted
unseen, likely never really heard,
lonely in your Little Box
amidst your tribe
of hardened have nots.
from such profound lack,
you shame and blame
easily kill and maim,
desperately looking outside
for what does not exist within.
no present capacity to self-reflect
nor the tools to adequately take stock
and practice personal responsibility.
fervent prayers for the lost pieces of you-
may you soon re-member and awaken.
