Farewell
I called it homefor so long. The place where I lie downmy belongings,my mind,my body,my soul,my spirit. The place where my kundalinifound her name,and the Eastern Starrose with luminous graceto meet herin elevation. This was the heart-placewhere sadness entered,where hope returned,where progress became possible,where healing took root,and where lovewas no longer somethingI sought from strangers,but…
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The Wind Called My Name Last Night
Dear Lost Chance, The wheels were turning.The fire was burning.And then, suddenly,Everything came to a halt. After so many yearsof long conversations,high and dry deserts,heightened silences,and little sparks of interestthat appearedonly to disappear again,I finally understoodWhat my hearthad been trying to tell me. You were here todayand gone tomorrow. Present enoughto awaken feeling,absent enoughto leave…
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Cleansed and Luminous
I cleansebecause my spirit deservesa room with windows. I stay freshbecause yesterday’s heavinesshas no jurisdictionover my breath. Let the water run.Let the herbs speak.Let the old rancorleave quietly,without ceremony. I am not hereto carry antiquated sorrowlike an heirloom. I choose cogency.I choose clarity.I chose the luminous disciplineof staying vibrationally elevatedWhen the world forgetsHow to be…
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Blessings at the Door
It was captivating.Angelic, even. The kind of beauty That does not need to be explainedWhy did the room shiftwhen it arrived. I feel the blessings coming in,not walking,not waiting politely,but rushing through the doorwith luminous certainty. After every despondent season,after every antiquated fear,after every plausible liethat tried to make me doubtmy own divinity, Here comes…
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A Grammar of Intimacy
It was as simple as daybreak, as the green marigold took shape in the meadows beneath the castle above. The weather of the soul moved across the sky, enchanted and unruly, while I danced through the lifelong drenches of a casted bleakness. Yes, it may read as a juxtaposition or a simile to some, but…
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The Regal Mercy of Forgiveness
One of the greatest giftsYou can give yourselfis forgiveness. Not the fragile kindthat pretends nothing happened. Not the docile kindthat hands your dignityback to the personwho tried to mishandle it. No. I mean the regal kind. The kind that standsin full regality,eyes clear,spirit luminous,crown unbothered,and says: I release youbecause I refuseto keep drinking poisonfrom an…
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Last Night We Kissed
Are you the runnerOr the race? Choose wisely,like the windbinding itselfto twilight’s bewilderment. There is no false humblenessin this river. Only movement.Only memory.Only the sacred currentasking you to rememberwhere you began. Nothing steadies the spiritlike solid ground. Let it build beneath you.Let the river flowlike the Niger,wide with knowing,ancient with return. As the drums sweep…
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Selected Moral Compass
“Suppose you were an idiot, and suppose you were a member of Congress; but I repeat myself.”Mark Twain It was admissible, perhaps even plausible, for rancor to appear before anyone still carrying a conscience. But does mockery become justice simply because the public enjoys the humiliation? Does spectacle become truth because the cameras arrive before…
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The Asset Is You
“What is success? I think it is a mixture of having a flair for the thing that you are doing; knowing that it is not enough, that you have got to have hard work and a certain sense of purpose.”Margaret Thatcher The journey is dense, much like the ebb and flow of life. Needless to…
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A Memory Once Reflected
It was a discretionary tale of humbleness, a precipice of love that could not be easily explained, only examined beneath the lens of the psychiatrist, as if the heart itself had been placed in a straitjacket to prove the severity of the matter. When told to be silent, the screams came lashing through the echo…
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Dancing in the Winds
Illiteracy is rampant. People are out of communication.Karen Black Illiteracy is rampant, and somewhere along the way, people have mistaken constant noise for communication. We are modern enough to afford the luxury of aloofness, yet many stand in complete despair, despondent, disconnected, and unsure how to speak across the fracture. There is strange fruit decaying…
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The Embrace of August
August comes in golden,warm as breathagainst the back of my neck,bright as a griffinwatching over the edge of morning. She does not roar.She rises. She enters like honeyed lightacross bare shoulders,like oil on the skin,like a prayerthat knows exactlywhere to place its hands. And I say,Thank you. Not because everything is easy.Not because every longinghas…
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