A Time To Be Still

Thoughts deepen
Focus quickens
Silent earth, Snowed upon
I know how you feel

I am not sad,
I am still.
I am whole but resting in a place of quiet on the edge of a massive potential storm
Potential tropical paradise

High pressure
Of cold air
Cutting through the silliness
Inviting inward resting
Coiled snake awaiting enough warmth to begin the ascent

Not without desire
But elegantly soaking in the stew of this moment
Nestled within itself

Can't you feel what you feel?
Can't you tell what is real?
No?!

So I suppose
Those that know
Are rarer than I knew

Even though,
we all feel it
For most only the dormant soul knows
And as for me
I can see
Everything
In one breath
All is contained

I can see your future
In our first days
But can you walk into it
Without fear?
Can you resist blaming me for knowing you better than you do?
Your boldness disappears
When reality holds up a mirror
I am the mirror and if you don't like what you see it is not me you have to blame

Shame that more don't commune with reality

This moment is slow
And deep and eternal
Rest before the road
Pulls me along
Once again

The art is in learning how to be still when it is time for stillness
How to be silly when it is time for silliness
How to be present more than you reminisce
How to dream a future so vividly that your imaginings form a shining rope of thought
By which you pull it into becoming real.

You Manifest what you feel
But if you do not guide what you feel
What you will find
Won't be what you desire but what you most fear

Truth above all else
But in order to hear
Once must learn to be still



Sent from my iPhone

Poison As The Antidote

It's time
I see
I didn't know
I needed to release
Until the poison
Seeped deeply
Wicked up
inside of me
I resisted
Unrelentless
In my Pursuit
Of the truth
I strived
To stay alive
And learn I did
Survive I did


I let the acrid
bitter
Bitchiness
Scour off the shell
I can't blame
it all
on the boys
In men's clothing
But their loathing
Was toxic
To an extraordinary degree
Slowly eating away
At my bliss
and
Stripping me
Of my freedom
By strapping
Cinder blocks
Of heavy cynicism
And the judgement
of their insecurity
On my delicate
Loving
Form

But
It wasn't theirs alone
it dragged
Old scars
up
from the well
From many moons
Many lifetimes ago

The heaviness
That I once endured
And fought so hard
To become pure of
A Renaissance
Of joy and ease

And their heavy hands
Shattered
My delicate figurine form
Ridiculed my grace
And pushed me down
So that they could feel strong
When we were
Face to face

Sometimes you don't know
Until you are ill
When someone doses you slowly
And out of love
You drink your fill
It can take many years
Before you see
That "the one I loved
Was poisoning me"

So the lead you
We're pouring
Down
My throat
When I was
Asleep
Was not enough
To kill me
And
Not enough to keep
Me from opening
my eyes
And
From learning to rise
Once again

And I used
It to learn
How to become
Even
More free
And how to
More sharply attune
To my reality

I watch myself
And though
I was graced
To keep it
Mainly
At
Bay

I feel the bitter
Chunky
Vomitus
Energy
Pouring out of me
I choke on the bit
Like sawdust and sputum
Violently bitter..

The sway of my hips
My sweetness of tone
My kind, loving gaze
My joy when alone
My peace
My smile
My acceptance

I am slowly floating back to the surface
To the light of me
Back to my beauty
Again I can breathe

You stole my peace
But I used it to purge past wounds
I harbor no regret or ill will
But Your venom now
is just your own

I am once again at home
In my heart
In my life
Clearer
Than before

I will have bled
The rotten black sap
Viscous and viscous
Out of my soul
Until there is no more
I have survived
And used
Your poison
To heal
And set me free.

And
Never again
Will I
Let another
Poison me.





Sent from my iPhone

It is not the wound that hurts so much..

It is not the wound that hurts so much
by Laura Harrison


How quickly things change
how abruptly things rearrange
plans shatter
hopes scatter
and holding on to what is no longer there
or
was never there
but was so desired
is the part that burns

so many hopes
of happy returns
of something that would last
better then the past

the pain
remains
long after the memory of the disdain paid
is laid to rest
because of the fear

the fear of letting go
the fear of being free
the fear of what you know
.. although

you thought this was it
that this one would last
no matter how fresh
your wound is past

so
let it go
let it go
let it go
let it go

and you will find
that it is not the wound that hurts so much
as your fierce reluctance
to accept that your false hopes
are not reality

let it go
 and you'll be free

and for a minute there is an empty space in the middle of your heart
but if you turn your attention to living your life you'll start
to fill that space with life and love
and in no time
the wound is long gone

only time and being fully here
to the rest of your life,
not just the pain,
will bring you healing
and allow you to perservere