(Photo by Tijs van Leur on Unsplash)
Cycles have ebbed & flowed.
The language of my past filtered many times over
against a rock and hard place.
Like a stream, the sediment is just passing through.
Like the minerals, I am sifted to see what parts of me are worth keeping.
The words are no longer familiar.
Just licks of gibberish bouncing off my bones along with the few things that stick.
I have tried to make the most of it.
Building, molding, breaking, folding
No longer with haste,
no fearing of waste
but many unanswered questions.
Deep waves,
wrinkles of time above my brows
I look up to see what is there.
Remember the image that God was in the sky?
Inferred,
suggested by the stringing of words.
Well, I wasn’t so sure.
I never was…
Not too long ago I was singing a sailor’s song to the moon,
a fine tune,
about skepticism and blindness
being the addiction to those who’ve felt abandonment.
Owl eyes in darkness with warpholes to pull in a fresh catch from the net floating above the depths.
I growled angrily & scoffed, “What would God want with me?”
Irritation in my bowel,
I scowl
discomfort tries to take the lead.
Tossed and turned by these sensations I preferred not to see.
How come fear has a face & yet the Divine is invisible?
Why is trust only learned from openness?
Couldn’t I just be sure first & trust in my own judgment?
You see,
I gazed upon the lurch where those who birthed me could not reach
and swore that God would never show up cause I wasn’t enough.
Too many scars,
tainted womb since a babe
spreading legs faster than hives
to do the thing that made her feel loved just like the ones who touched her before she could ever know she was ready.
Carrying those spirits for so many terms,
super senior as a teen
graduation was the dream.
Yet years and names and numbers alternated
still playing the same game.
still feeling the same pain.
“Where do I belong? Why was I made so different? I thought I left this place & NOW I am remembered?!? Weren’t you supposed to be no more in the age where all is new? Backtrack!? And talk to God some more?! Ha, I thought that God is You?!”
The water ripples,
I’ve drifted far.
Daylight is peaking through the trees,
reaching to stretch its arms of light around me.
The circle sun dances off the backs of frogs leaping across lily pads disturbing sleeping lotuses that splatter me with mud.
I start to see it.
The ocean leaves my eyes to drip upon the flesh made of the same earth beneath me.
“I’m sorry…” I whimper softly, “I’m just so sad. I feel unworthy. I do not want to be all-powerful, no one and nothing can replace you… I just wanted my turn.”
It is silent except for my weeping.
Even in the echo I still feel small.
Only now it’s finally relieving.
To be held in the palm of a cosmic hand,
melted down from glass to sand.
Carried by the winds of my father
into the heart of my mother —
there is a plan.
I meet you in the middle
where the road is overtaken
by my wild nature.
I am growing beyond what I thought was my capacity.
The audacity,
to roar and curse you in the desert
with my hip falling off the bone
like I’d been marinating in your benefit.
I ask for Your forgiveness & your blessing,
I behold,
echoed,
“the honor is Yours”
that I AM the blessing — one and everything untold.