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I am on the wall, tall up

and teetering

like one single slip

of a pin might shatter

all come pouring down

and after I would be

polished, a marveling

statue in white

no man could hang their coat on

/

There is love here, in the seat of my bones

and rattling as I watch movement soar over

in cloud. There is wisdom and ancient viels

lifting, ground to be tread and left in glory.

I am here now, going soon now, here now

shedding gentle tears at nightfall and waking

too early from dreams all sick and strange.

/

Outside of my body

the air is thick, current,

swimming river in run-off

and this season, April close

I am shrinking, mouth wider

wider until the Sun

is my one pole

spiraling eyes

lock on, a vision, as

Earth drains away

This removal is heavy. I can feel it locking up my system, the hallows and the pulling at the back of my eyes. On the way to work I let loose a gentle cry. It came brief, like the gurgle of a spring. Such an odd sensation, letting this all go. I expect I will return to these western mountains, and a break away will bring new light to the corners of my mind. Wise Mother, you’ve but no choice to guide me, in kindness, in reverence. Potent honesty, I must hold the boundaries as my body claims them. Soiled self can only permeate.

This week shall be tending, all energy towards the production of my art, of my love, of my soul, the parts of myself I would like to inhabit more… the soul of the child to come, and all the children of past blessed passage. I am at the precipice of a holy new chapter. I expect life to look very different after these next few months. Make it and let it be open, I trust the warm boughs of wind that shall churn up the valley, I trust the process of life itself, unfolding always, I the dust and the sun alike.

All the gears of people turning about, immense grief and joy like mirror dragons, soaring up my spine. My! the year to be had unlike anything I have dreamed witness of. To sunshine and full expression ahead, I am as ripe, simple, grand as an egg. My love, I wane away from our life together, create space for the learning and unlearning ahead and may we both come back together a unified source, hell-bent on the pursuit of Us, all the things this might hold.

I expect polarity soon. Expansions of my realms, feelings unbeknownst to my kindred soul more fragrant and bizarre than any form of past self could reckon. The loss of the comfort, of the known world around me. The confrontation of loves long past, of soul that has grown black. I am here, stripping myself. Naked faced to the sun and moon, let the pendulum revolve, stretch to the edge of mother and father, farther, and close close close again, oh I cannot wait to know myself like this.

There is a heaviness, every love in my life has spoken to this, lurking at the edge of our perception. I don’t sense the bane as they do, or perhaps I see just this – the discomfort and irrationality of all things to come. Opportunities as these to delve inward and to root, trust. Many people in my vicinity struggle here, I find. There is little virtue they are able to uncover in the muck, or attend to after the fact. The process of opening myself to all this information, all the direct messages my body sends, senses, submits to daily, it is as if I am a fresh, waking child. Sunlight still so foreign and potent as the face of God. To my brothers and sisters walking the earth, may your bodies too illuminate and bring forth abundance, as they are the key to our greatest truth.

Mind, the prestige, illness, Ego, unbridled power you hold. A product of my body, a simultaneous expression of my true form. I trust to be guided, trust the flow of the stream. In to the earth in the bellies of trees or down all the way to the ocean, there is no wrong, unintended part of the cycle. Let roots flourish, for the pangs in the wind have been impossible to ignore. My, with gratitude I move forward.

I have nothing to say

nothing to write

nothing to fancy

nothing to bite

shaken and quaking

the trees in this wind

sun keeps nudging

then frost, air thin

long trudge, seeking love

untying all within–

Finally I wrote to her

and I know her eyes

are holding it, holding back

quivering perhaps

as I have been for months

and a certain freedom

greets me like I didn’t quite know

how to relax my palms

and gently thank

the presence of soul

in the roots of grass.

This week felt like sick days

of mourning the last death

and I am growing, a weekend

toward sisterhood

as I know it more deeply

today, any letter or poem

I could have sailed

is a ship for me

to watch off toward the horizon

evening drawing

and a yellow, oranging,

greying line grows top the blue

the ship is dark now,

tall, teetering off

I send prayers,

believe in her journey

and put myself to bed.

It all is coming, I am leaving

Soon! Life be cherished for it rests on the horizon. All the energy is mounting towards this, I can feel the deep womb pull, swaying, and how obvious the moon stares each day in the clearing. Cold weather has been our welcome, as the crackles and waves begin to rush for my dear sister I reckon the sun will flourish, a true cresting spring. Life, as the babes graze on the hillside and the insects after hatch rest their used bodies on the spring, it is all coming and is One.

and Ah! I exhale, we exhale there is so much ahead. To be had presently, gently. Still so much lingers on the periphery of my understanding, like fuzzy dream morsels. I am half of who I could be, chipping away at the color for a lifetime. Lucky, so so lucky am I.

Went to the woods, searching for the path we took

a few years back, maybe my last favorite memory

I was hoping to burn the letter and let it all melt off

when we slept that night it was like children, we didn’t recognize

one another, all giddy and breathing up stodge into the tent

how I thought the whole world might be back then

That tent you broke last summer, if I remember right

things have not been the same since

Oh so little, could I have imagined

as we listened to the rusty songs of the creek, a year n change ahead

I would call this town home too? Maybe I’d’ve believed,

but oh, living here and not knowing you? baking your cake,

squeezing life into the arms of your next chapter?

I reckon even then it was lurking in the air

/

The sun was drawing towards the horizon and I did not

find the path, tears welled within me, quick pass

Down to the creek I found a nook my own

and funny is it like going to that camp we staked

might wash it all away

I read the letter and simply felt, the sun peered through two trees

as my witness, Thank You,

it burned up slowly. I placed the flaking bits upon the water

dissolving like the tail of a goddess, ceremonial

New Moon this last bleed, grief and closing

/

I miss you like an old torn dress

every summer I’d run in, doused in river and sun

You don’t even fit now, but there are photos

all over the web, like a birthday and I see that dress

and some small self of me, gleaming in that pure, taken shot

that does not yet know how the years

roll on and trample. I am true now, in service

to the woman I will be, am and have been

That dress would not fit, poor fabric

or length, my hips have pushed their seams

a life force as obvious as the sun today,

tomorrow weathers warm and I might swim, wash off

all this early April smell

This week I bite my nails, struggling to maintain pace in the work place and the glory in my soul. How relieving the words that flow out feel, grateful to have habits that let me release, create space for all the things beyond. Your birthday, I hope it is filled with love and honesty and you are facing the challenges, sitting firmly with the grief and letting it wash you, compel you to act. Get a drink in my honor, no doubt I shall unwillingly see you soon.

Big breath in and out, I can feel it all melting away. Hours pass quickly and my life is morphing. The moments cannot weigh down like chain, I am lucky here as I am. There is love, true, and people around me who allow my own qualms to settle and rise as tides. My blood is gone; steam again tonight and let go at last of all that fixes itself inside me. It is clustering. Just a few hours and I am free again. The longer I stretch the activities of my days, the more the dream world digs deep. Last night, to a friend years years back, it was a kind hug and giggles. Birthday girl in the room, I did not say hi.

This has been a growing theme, all these reconciliations and gentle embraces. These parts of me confirm my movement, the collective shifts we all take and all heal from. All night long, all night long. I am of the Sleepers, April sings.

Tonight in the woods I shall burn a letter written to you. This is the final bow, and forward I shall hold my head high, gracefully intercept and brush onward. You have lost me, to rebuild the bridge takes much longer than one thrust of a river on any fateful night.

Remember the bridge at 9th? I was away the summer she was swept away. All the people stuck and wondering what next, I can’t imagine the quiet after all the fuss. Times like this too, I think of the comfort of the water. Unbinded, truthful to her form. The Laws of Nature sooth and consume.

Birth day, you or I to one year ago when I did not even know what it meant, beyond the smoke and fallacy of the weakness of womb. I am like a new child now, understanding myself in all forms and becoming each day. To live for sunlight, this alone has pushed the true nature of it all more infinitely than anything past. All these words and nothing meant, yet we still write the lexicon of our futures out as stone, not hearing the leaves spring out and the wind’s low moan. I do not agree with much these days, outside of Love and Life. Parts of me buried I hope to dig up but instead I push out. Here, now, pivotal example, pushing pushing pushing out and may the moment come for quiet rest this weekend – this evening! Among the achy, lumbering trees Let All Melt Off and Decompose.

I cannot wait to meet you, You are all around me.

I can feel yellow seeping into the world around me. It is a bubbly, strange sensation, perhaps a drink of pop and can’t quiet cough it up – tough though when the lady can’t burp. No, it is more like the bubbling of a cold current atop the creek. There is no sun in the air I can see, but the water tells me different, glinting. All this, wormed up from my head while I work. Don’t be fooled! The imagination glow proves wild.

Oh april, you are snowing again and I am sleeping better, dreams rampant, every night. No illness pervades me, though I dreamt of a man not my own and held him close, warm, smiling. Glad to sense all this fluidity, all the long arms open to change and movement. No one is built into the box, silly is Man to think, or fall victim to believing they are anything shy of holy, whole. To look into the sun and the moon each passing day, does this not confirm your truth? your excellence?

My, I am grateful for the confidence and love I inherited womb forward. All the trauma despite, I was made to evolve this way. Perhaps it may guide one or two, even if just a space to breathe.

Holding space to grieve where I was. In the solitude of the polarity of these times, I resonate deeply, outstretching to the golden light, coming into a grandness that is True. It has been lonely at times, to grieve the world and the beliefs that once felt so clear, this grief I move through, each moment closer to on the side of sun. I miss the woman who, in popular opinion, could do no wrong, could pass murky in action due to standing social justice strong. I grieve the ease of “conversation,” the absence of challenge, I grieve fitting the mold that every part of the world tried to put me in.

But my, it was as simple as a blood spot in the pool. Once one element of the chaos of our realm began to tremble, and for a second I stopped to ponder, it all began to tint, to proliferate and crumble the foundation. Not blood as red as the true blood that flows from me now, but as the blackened, pained blood of a crying cervix, the portal of life rejected in mass conscious suit. I miss the girl I was, naive and striving to a false hope of enlightenment. I am proud, fully, of the woman I am now, unpopular and pushing for Truth and Love, for the earth, for each other. I am proud to admire so many like me, in genuine pull to shift my gaze and challenge the narrative.

Missing, grieving, becoming.

These cycles shall be, infinite.

I come to you

without judgement or anger, without fear

firmly in my soul, sprouting

/

I remember it so well now

I do not want to grieve you

tears streaming you said

and at the time I did not understand this

and played the game

nor could I grieve either

but alas, I am confronted

within the body of my truth

and know well now this grief is in pass.

/

Your estrangement, your confusion, however deep it does boil

is a stew you shall strain and taste with time

I already have grieved

what you believed shan’t be grieved

the person you imagined I would be

what you wanted me to be

/

it is strange, I miss her too

silly, yelling, popular in affairs

you grieve her, this is the welt

protruding your skin

and I grow more deeply connected to each whim

wise, thriving, pushing the bounds,

I have grieved the us you held so safe and sound

the journey forward, may it change ebb and flow,

is yours to make soley,

for I know myself whole