a work in progress perhaps no one should be for to simply be oneself should happen effortlessly it would seem
it’s work for me though to attempt to undo the disease seeds enemy-planted deep that choke the bloom
contaminating the roots robbing nutrients always pulling at upward movement
i grow my colors lift my face to the sun drink the falling waters offer pollen to everyone
yet i keep coming undone keep feeling invisible tugs
so i work to break free from that which i cannot see that has this grip on me
and little by little with each sinless absolution i sense each time another parasitical root is loosened
directly by my higher power and the words sinking in from finally believing my true-lover
feeling lighter is the way to the self i have begun to realize
to remove the shackles of the world and psyche to return the soul to the sky
It’s true, I’m blooming. I hope you can see: I am blossoming because your love has been seeded in me, and upward is the only direction I can go when these internal whispers of yours hush the world so ours are the only voices I hear when the storms return raging from those traumatic years. Time need not be turned back: unraveling these knots of old patterns, we’re perfecting with practice. I will do more than hold on for with your patience, I am remembering more quickly that this is the present, and I am nestled safely in the nearness of you upon the hillside with the endless view of anywhere I wish to go whilst bringing with me my found, forever home.
I will bend to please, for I put first others’ needs; overempathy makes me weak.
Forceful winds, whether intended or not, push with invisible pressure until my insides knot.
In opposite direction of secret desires, the flight I am put on with unpurchased ticket takes me higher
but farther on false wings to where I wished to be; nonetheless, I relentlessly look for the positives in my surroundings.
Rock, boulder, my anchor, my center, is never stationary. I move the mountains with the strength of your arms and my unshakable faith in the Almighty.
Bent tree. Flight path. Criss-crossing trajectories. I will bend back. I will disembark. And wherever that leaves me, I will find where the wildflowers are. And if you pluck them all, I will water the seeds in my heart.
I will persevere as me, no matter how many rounds I smartly, politely, or wearily concede. Each of those fertilize bloom potentiality.
I will grow my own wildflower fields until they rise out of me.
Unfurl your light,
one ray at a time,
for there are plenty
of cloudy days and
to regroup strength
the seasons and petals
Keep tenderly nurturing
that inner glowing seed;
no need to even reach
your full potential
this spring –
the journey is in the growing
and the courage developing
all you were designed to be:
simply you, bloomed
into belief of your
Shades of bright pink– magenta, fuchsia, cerise– through a sea of gray, peek, a reminder that soon it will be spring.
In the shroud of fog and mist that seems to perpetually persist, nature refuses to statically subsist; every cloud will again disperse or lift.
Time was constructed with the condition of motion with clauses that require stages of hibernation; every living thing needs rest and recuperation. Time ticks on at the same rate; speed is but perception.
Fill the moments wisely with balance, tenderly caring for each personal aspect. Mind, body, and soul are both one and separate; each undergo necessary, natural occurrences.
Embrace each season that inevitably occurs; even the cold, the dark, the thorns, the spurs have their purpose in the slows and the stirs. We are nature within, designed this way by our Creator.
This too shall pass: it’s happening for a reason. Let’s not be in a hurry for every next season. This moment now is infused with more than you can know. We are not meant to understand, only to continue to evolve,
We will reach the sun when we are meant to. Side by side or entwined, let us together bloom. No hurry, no need to be bold; we can take our time, be led by