Fronds of Green

Fronds of green

Tickling the senses

Enjoying each dance in the wind

Not having a work day to begin

All is happening inside

Producing

Pumping

Emitting winter scents to us

As a reminder of the time that’s come

Our own inward dance to occur in parallel of our work days

Fronds of green

Deep desire to explore the internal life

What happens when we don’t observe?

Energetic vibrations

Rapid responses

Life force energy

An ability to continue existence despite the harsh wind

An allowance to dance

I welcome the bleak month as it means I will likely journey inwards too

And allow myself to dance in the wind

Just like those fronds of green

Pattering Rain

The rain patters against the windshield. I am not ready to leave the comfort of his energy. I want to stay and lay all day in each others arms. He exits his door and walks over to me. He kisses me and whispers “stay dry today” and off I went. The day has begun and I am still not ready. Still dreaming of his comforting love that makes physical impacts on me and makes me feel alive.

Phases

In order to really get to know yourself, you have to be able to embrace your darkness. We are all like the moon, we go through phases. We are in a continuous cycle of moving from full light through full dark. Our light is always a part of us. Our dark is always a part of us. You cannot understand yourself until you can embrace all it is you are.

I create when I’m dark & what you see is not all of me. I am light too.

hello sliver moon

Hello sliver moon

You’re keeping me company this morning

Hello sliver moon

My heart has been in mourning

 

Hello sliver moon

My depression has started re-forming

Hello sliver moon

My emotions are so warring

 

Hello sliver moon

Your light is joyful and roaring

Hello sliver moon

You’re sending my heart soaring

 

Hello sliver moon

I hope your energy is a warning

Hello sliver moon

I hope my own light is aborning

 

Hello sliver moon

My world has been dark and pouring

Hello sliver moon

I’m so glad you visited me this morning

Pylon

She leans against a pylon in the empty train stop. Her hair is blowing in the breeze and the sounds of the rustling leaves fills her head. The season is changing.

She is not yet where she hoped to be in this new season. She is no where near where she wanted to be. Actually, she hasn’t tried to change at all.

A plane flies overhead and she can feel the rumble of the engine vibrating in her feet. She wants to run but she is paralyzed. Her feet are detached from her brain. Her toes are rooted through the cement beneath her feet, dug deep underground amongst the dirt, amongst the bugs.

A blown leaf catches on her foot. She looks down and moves her feet apart. She has been a barrier for herself. She doesn’t want to block anyone or anything else. The leaf loses grip and floats away with the wind, to continue its destiny.

Indication

The soft moments with you that brush against my reality give me the the indication that we are moving in the right direction.

You are quiet. You are reserved. You are particular.

You are strong. You are sound. You are kind.

You are many things – although sometimes I think you ignore your qualities. You avoid your feelings as if they have bad intentions for you. You hush your inner voice telling you to open up.

Your walls were built to protect you, but in the end, they are hindering your growth. You have to let people in sometimes.

I am so glad we are getting somewhere.

Must Be

This week has started off in grey-scale. My light was dark and dim and grim. I saw my life through colorless lenses. I saw my love the same way.

The past work days have dragged on. Endless questions on where I am, where I am going, and what I am doing. I am confused.

Depression can take over me at times out of nowhere. I am emotionally tortured – held at gunpoint and too cowardly and ashamed to ask for help. Reminiscent of the past. Reminiscent of something I am still struggling with although I pretend that I’ve moved on.

This week has finally turned blue… in a good way. The sky looks so good, I could just dive in. My God, the Sun, is out there shining down. I feel the warmth on my skin. I am relieved that it is no longer dark.

I need to find a bigger purpose. I need to heal myself and my soul. I look forward to going to the lake this weekend.

Must spend some time outside. Must spend some time exercising and eating healthy. Must spend some time between the pines or in the water. Must spend time being me.

 

Energy Exhumed

Last night was muggy. The breeze ran through the screen porch and allowed us some temporary relief. There were six of us, all family; some of us, best friends.

Ghosts were brought up and were assumed as my childhood imaginary friends. That is mostly true (stories I will share another time), but I did conjure up a fictional girl to spend time with.  My imaginary friend was very bohemian; colorful, long hair, no shoes. Though she never shared her name, I called her Esmeralda because she reminded me of one of my favorite Disney characters. She was my guide and my companion. I was an only child and she was a sister to me.

The next topic was the sacred Ouija. As I sit with the group, hysteria erupts. Ignorant assumptions of satanic, demonic, and negative energies. A spirit board is a tool. It is a symbol of other realms. It calms me and always has. It has helped me find the right path at times. It has provided me with positive results and comfort.

If only people could see the energy exhuming from themselves.

Helena

My grandmother came to me for a split second today. I was walking to work and all of a sudden, it felt like I had walked into a wall. Overcome with emotions, sorrow, and loss; inexplicably so. Sadness but also memories of joy. Memories of calling her.  Longings of sitting on her back porch or lay in bed with her as we would, asking for advice or daydreaming of what was to come in my life. A cup of tea, cream cheese toast, ice cream, the aroma of a home cooked meal.

When I got to work, I understood why she visited me. My colleague’s grandfather was dying. She explained to me how she left him in the hospital. All of the bad memories came back. Memories I had placed aside to focus on being a support for my mother in her loss. Memories I have ignored for years. All revisited this morning.

Although I was 12 years younger the last time I called her, I still remember her telephone number. I remember how she would sing my name as she was calling me from inside the house. I remember how she smelled. I remember how it felt to wake up in my room there; the antique bed, the sheer white curtains with sunlight shining through, the old linens. I remember everything. And I miss her.

 

7.17.17

 

Stuck Between

I’m stuck between the purple and dark blue, the light and the shadowed.

Between; I am here, I am stuck, I am indecisive.

Do I step into the realm of the purple hues or take a dive into the deep abyss of blues?

To be found or to be gone?

Here; I can remain.

Here; I can pretend.

Here; I can hide.

Without force to be found or gone, existing alongside the false acquaintances of this world.

But, here is not so good.

A bubble around me – I’m isolated, neither loved nor hated.

Just stuck with a decision: to step into the realm of the purple hues or take a dive into the deep abyss of blues?

To be found or to be gone?

My mind is not clear – not enough to step into the purple, but, I am too scared to take that leap into the blue.

So, I stay here in between waiting for something to take hold over my balance and knock me into the color where I belong.