The rain is loud enough it has silenced my thoughts. I have had a breather for but a mere moment… as long as mother nature decides I may need one. For this – I am thankful. Life has simply been pouring down on me but when I look up and smile into the rain, I can’t help but feel a joyous upheaval of emotions because it is never “the right time” although, in fact, the right time will never come if you wait.
It began raining tonight. First a little, then a lot. Then it drifted off and across the field; I could see it like an old friend waving me hello. Then it came back with the booms and blunders of the thunder, the lightening, and the eager calls of the crickets. Now it’s gentle, soft and welcoming – like a child’s hand stretched out needing you… As the moths flicker into the enticing light hanging out by the door one may wonder if they are escaping the droplets, surely because it would be cause for death to such fragile wings. The seeping water shows its face into the wood, the screen, I can even feel the misty splashes upon my forehead and cheeks, forearms and bare feet slid out of my favorite flip flops.
The rain washes things away – the mud on the road ahead, the dustiness of the path less traveled, the leaves from the trees – and always reveals something beautiful. For your road ahead is now clean, the path is worn enough to see, and those leaves….those leaves turn into all shades before they fall and then come back again with unforgiving desire to be better and stronger.
I’m so glad I wrote tonight. It feels like oxygen to my lungs and blood in my veins when my thoughts come together long enough for me to get them on paper… Cheers everyone!
Lock and key,
just for a few.
in unwavering fashion.
the familiar succumbs.
The absolute one
my surrender comes.
the comfortable bleeding has quit seeping.
Strength and promise.
No more malice.
Now it’s deep,
struggles no longer steep.
Once, a lifetime tease –
Now a daily please.
It’s too late to apologize for what you’ve done and how you’ve treated me. I can’t imagine that you would treat anyone else like that because I know that God did not put that into your soul. Your soul is beautiful, but not conservative; passionate but confused…lost, like a red and wet faced child wandering down a rural road looking for the dog they’ve grown up with. Your fascinated with pretty things that catch your attention and admire you for one reason or another. I can see why they would admire you but I can’t see why they’d stick around to see the butterfly you won’t turn into.
You gave me things I don’t want to let anyone else give me. My miscarriage was a terrible experience but I tell you…I’ve learned a thing or two from it. You’ve chased sweets while I was watching but I let you get your taste and turned a blind eye to your indulgences. I always hated it, and you knew it, but I trusted that you would change…how, my, how I wished you’d have changed.
My heart hasn’t stopped beating for the person that I knew, deep down, you’d never be. It isn’t because you don’t want to be that person – you just don’t have it in you. I am more than enough woman for you to handle; I’m too strong for your superficiality, too literal for your euphemisms, too colorful for your black & white…there is simply too much dreaming within me to accompany your general tones.
You won’t get the best of me. This is my life, my story. And I won’t take a step back for you.Thanks for all you’ve taught me. I’ve forgiven, but I’ll never forget.
You ask me if I understand…I reply in hopes to ease the fear.
It’s not often you find someone
so intriguing, so lovely, so…
So faithful, so resilient, so…
Handsome and beautiful.
Sculpted with the truest of embraced imperfections.
Like the tallest oaks
blown by the midsummer storm.
Strong and determined,
unyielding to the path
of becoming worn…
Weak and unsettled.
You! You are something great!
Those things we find only in dreams,
those thoughts that lie down deep,
those emotions that taunt and tweak.
What I thought I once was but now will only
Be the whole I’ve searched for.
Like a ship to a beacon,
a moth to the flame.
A grasshopper in the full moonlight.
You can’t have one without the other.
If I wrote you a letter you’d probably shed a tear of happiness but also possibly one of angst. You might consider me to be less understanding than you’d originally thought but the truth is I cannot understand all that encompasses the human condition and neither can you. I can write to you and tell you how beautiful you are, the way your mind works and the passion you have in your heart, the way your skin shimmers in the sunlight, your strength and how it is bigger than anything you could build in a gym. The calmness in your presence, that feeling that floods the veins of even the most delinquent of individuals with sweetness like that from honeysuckles. The speechless conversations we have with our eyes is the rawest I’ve ever heard your heart speak.
I’d tell you I don’t understand it all and I’d tell you I’m still learning. Write you and tell you I feel the wholehearted warmth of love in my soul but have the broad grip of a heartsore past encompassing it although I beg it desperately to let go. Tell you how I feel the arresting sensation of your electric touch and the submission of the brick and mortar protecting my core. I’d tell you I am broken but unexhausted, unwilling to allow concentrated anguish to make me believe there isn’t better. The suffering hasn’t defined me… It has strengthened me.
The investigation of something new is always unexpected, like trying to read with blind eyes. It satisfies the salty desires of our tongue as we leave the safe refuge of what we know is our truth. The inconvenience of an unknowing mind is overpowered by the desires of an authentic soul searching for sincerity. The abstract flatness of what was once perceived to be life is rejuvenated with the spice of something new, different, interesting… and hopefully long-lasting.
Love may be a paradox but without it our souls would never smile.
I haven’t been here in a while although I miss it.
Those feelings I once had, they are long gone my friend. They’ve been buried in the back yard with the ash from burning trash in the old barrel.
The leaves change like the emotion I wear on my sleeve. Sometimes red like blood and other times, yellow as the bright light of the morning sun. I can feel the dirt in my fingertips from digging in too deep, soft but gritty – irritating and messy with clean up needed. My hands were comfortable in the moss when I touched the tree; like mother natures velvet.
The rings of the tree remind me that with age comes wisdom. With age comes knowledge. With age…sometimes comes pain. With age… often times comes moments of happiness and realization. I’ve grown with wisdom, and knowledge, and noticed that these rings keep layering on the effects of age for not only the tree but for me.
It’s been a while since I’ve been here but I still miss it.
I must admit, currently I am overcome with emotion. An emotion that digs deep into the trenches of my heart and is filtering out an ambition for equality and oneness. A tenderness so passionate that I cannot control the tears in my eyes and the lump in my throat begging to evict itself of my body. The innate sense of direction leads me, and it leads me to want to write more. It is leading me to want to speak with people, to converse with them on an intimate level, to understand who and what they are, feel their emotions and journalize their passions. I can’t think of a place in my personal and communal society where a certain individual hasn’t shaped who I am today. I can’t think of a place in my historical and preceding society that hasn’t shaped who I am today; giving me what I need to breathe and eat – these things that give me nutrients and knowledge and wisdom. These abilities to even consider that there was a time before me in which…I simply didn’t matter. My words, my thoughts, my knowledge, my being – just simply didn’t matter.
The abilities I have now are empowering. I have, at my fingertips, that ability to speak to the world. They ability that I can, without lawful retribution, express myself as I see and feel needed. That I can move those who wish to be moved. That I can speak for myself and allow not another person to dictate what I wish to decide for myself. You see – I cannot be disturbed or terrorized by any one particular person or group any longer. I cannot and will not be demonized for what you perceive me to be. And I cannot and will not be disgraced by the hands of those who misunderstand nor do not wish to understand me. The surface of this world is not mine to control, but the working of the superficiality starts with a passion. The workings that go deeper than superficiality, the workings that dig into the seven layers of well-used skin and drive into the muscle that manifests the incalculable possibilities of the human sensibilities that we each withhold.
No longer will I hang my head in doubt or disappointment. No longer will I bite my tongue for refuge or pleasurable attention. No longer!…will I stand here and allow you to intimidate me in whichever way you please. I cannot comprehend your destruction and inhumane practices. The only thing that rattles and awakes me is the unity and oneness amongst ourselves. The jarring reality is, is that there is not a single thing you can take from me that I won’t allow you to take…
This is a chance I took, my blog. It’s developed in six months far more than I thought it would. I’ve gained new followers and – dare I say it – friends! I feel like I’ve connected with all of my readers on some level. I wanted to take a moment to say a very heart felt “Thank you!” to those of you who follow me, and even those of who you do not but stop by and let me know your still looking from a distance.
In four days, my blog will be six months old. It’s young and still growing, but it really is a living and breathing thing. It takes time, love, and a lot of moments of your life to develop something your passionate about. Each day I reflect, my readers are a big reason I continue coming back. Not only have I developed an intense passion for writing, but my readers have helped me feel welcome in the world of writing and self-expression. The conversations I’ve had, the friendships I’ve developed with such wonderful people, and the reading I’ve been doing on others blogs is all like the dollop of vanilla ice cream in my root-beer float. It really makes it so worthwhile, because let’s face it – what’s a float without the ice cream?
I wanted to thank my readers first of all and give some support to new bloggers, writers, and the like because there are so many varieties of people here. You can do it, trust me. When you think there isn’t anyone who will listen, someone will be there. Your writing isn’t just bathroom material, it gets people up in the morning – revitalizing them and getting them ready for their day. It’s comforting those who think they’re the only one’s on the face of this earth that can’t comprehend that someone else shares the same thoughts. It’s the support the girl who’s going green needs to keep up her endeavors. It’s the humbling refresher for the woman who’s been divorced for over ten years because she is not alone – and many find her quite funny. It’s the young couple that’s taking on more than they can chew but they’re doing it in stride. It’s even the the guy that has more opinion’s than the law allows, whether you’d like to hear them or not. But mostly, it’s everyone’s story. It’s everyone’s chance to let the world into what it is that they do, and it really means a lot.
So this is me saying a big THANK YOU! to everyone who reads, follows, aspires, or is expressing themselves in what ever ways they can. Because… In the end, the only regrets we have are the chances we didn’t take…and I am so glad I took this one!