I sink or swim

I sink or I swim.

It is my choice.

 

I can jump in

but yet the question remains

should I?

 

I feel the water suffocating

me

all around

should I sink or swim?

 

I am caught between

the

moment of indecision

of what appears

to be

right or wrong

but yet

do I really

know the

truth.

 

What is right?

Joy or rightness?

Bliss or correctness?

Happiness or moralness?

 

I feel the water

so warm and inviting

but yet

my hands are cold

and numb.

 

I shiver.

 

Deep inside I know

the answer

to what cuts so deep.

 

Yet, I can’t decide.

 

The moment calls

and yet

I am unsure

of whether or not

to jump

into

the unknown depths

or stay

on this safe

shore.

 

While I live on this dividing

line

between

truth and

the fiction

that I tell myself,

I

yearn

and

break

deep inside.

 

I weep.

 

I sink or swim.

It is my choice.

 

9-derwent-water-lake-district-england

Soon, I will be here in the Lakes Region of England.  Will I sink or swim?

 

 

 

What do I want

What do I want you ask?

 

I want to be adored both for my

inner

beauty

and

my

brilliance.

 

I want to be held

during the deep

night

and

never let go

as if

I were a liferaft

drifting on

the open sea.

 

I want to be

looked at

like

I was being

looked at

for the very first time

when I first

caught your eye.

 

I want to be

kissed

like that first night

when you

kissed me

all by

surprise

and I

acquiesced

with a silent

return.

 

I want

someone to

whisper so

softly

how extraordinary I am

to them

and them

alone

night and day

day and night

morning

and

evening.

 

I want to

once more

make love

with abandon

as if it were

like it was

once before

but never

again.

 

I want to

feel like a woman

again,

just

one

more time,

feel

like a

woman.

 

I want to

be released from

the burdens

the pains

the heartache

of this

life.

 

I want once more

to just live again

to be loved again

to be a woman again.

 

You asked me what I want.

What I always had…..until I didn’t have it.
20462_298541517479_6912788_n188708_10150124315657480_7304399_n20462_298516887479_7165859_n

 

 

A self that you see.

I have but more than one self.

I have a self that you see

when you look

at me

in the early morning light

before the world awakes.

 

I have a self that you see

that is tired and

worn from the daily

tragedies that

we call life.

 

I have a self that you see

when I am alone

in my

solitude

with no

one but me

to judge and allow.

 

I have a self that you see

when I am charged

with excitement

and electricity

from

just

being

in your presence.

 

I have a self that you see

when I reach

over and

touch

your hand

and hold
it

softly

within mine.

 

I have a self that is not singular.

It is plural.

 

There are many selves that

live within me

that breathe inside of me

that wait to be born.

 

I have a self that is plural.

Wake up.

Wake up.

 

Wake up.

To a world that is

crumbling all around

us

in untruths

and manipulation

in the name

of

power

and greed

and fame.

 

Wake up.

To an earth that

is crying out

in

injustice

to the hurt

that it

ensures

everywhere

and in

everyplace.

 

Wake up.

To the hate and divisions

that exist

because of

deeply-rooted

beliefs

that fester

under the wounds

left

scabbed over.

 

Wake up.

To what is beautiful

all around

that goes

unnoticed as we

silently walk by

in our hurried

rush.

 

Wake up.

To the ancient call

that we fail to hear

that

cries out from

deep inside

of a well

that reaches

all the

way to the soul.

 

Wake up.

We are hurting.

 

Wake up.

We are harming.

 

Wake up.

We are dying.

 

Wake up.

I am still here

I am still here.

Right where you left me.

After being broken and battered

through life’s slings and toils

just waiting.

 

I am still here.

Over here

in the corner

whence you forget about me

when everyone else

too turned their back

on me.

 

I am still here.

By the stairs

readying to walk upwards

out of the darkness

into the light

as my chains and shackles

holding me down

have been unlocked.

 

I am still here.

I am still here.

 

You are amazed.

 

You did not kill me

nor did you torment me into silence.

I still live and breathe

the stifled air of a life

so harshly dealt.

 

I am still here.

I am still here.

 

Right where you left me.

 

Lucky to have been dealt your blow.

So swift and furious

like a bull charging at its

matador.

 

I am still here.

Because you cursed me

I now live

I now know

what the rest of them know not

about complexity and challenge.

 

I am still here.

I survived.

I am a survivor.

 

 

Your voice haunts me

Your voice haunts me.

 

It wails silently hidden behind the ages.

I hear it break through.

Tearfully, mournfully, sinfully.

 

Your voice haunts me.

 

It reminds me of when you last spoke to me.

Like the first time.

It pierces my heart

and

dominates my soul.

 

Your voice haunts me.

 

It calls me back

to another place

in

another time

only to be forgotten

so long ago.

 

Your voice haunts me.

 

Stop it.

Stop calling me.

Stop drawing me back in

to a place

of non-existence

where only hurt and pain

reside.

 

Your voice haunts me.

 

It echoes in the deepest chambers of my heart.

It reverberates like a call from the wild

in the middle of a cold

winter’s night.

 

Your voice haunts me.

 

It sings a song that

tantalizes me into thinking

that maybe,

just this once,

that maybe,

you stand in front of me

still.

 

Your voice haunts me.

 

And, I stop and cry.

I cry the tears of the unknown

who hear the voice

that pulls

them out of their reality

into the deepest of their

felt humanity.

 

And, I stop and cry.

 

Because it is you.

O Israel, O Israel

Along the sea of Galilee,

my eyes scan the horizon.

My heart beats anew.

 

I stare out in absolute wonder and amazement.

The rain softly falls on me.

Caressing my age.

 

I am here.

I have arrived.

I am home.

 

Home to belief, forgiveness, and possibility.

I am home.

 

O Israel, O Israel.

 

Along the sea of Galilee,

I feel deep inside.

a peace that settles in my life.

It envelopes me in its embrace.

 

I am here.

I have arrived.

I am home.

 

Home to the next chapter, a new life, more possibilities.

I am home.

 

O Israel, O Israel.

 

Along the sea of Galilee,

I stare off into the distance.

Imagining the miracles of a prophet

long ago.

 

And, witnessing the miracle of my own

transformation

today.

 

I am here.

I have arrived.

I am home.

 

Home to miracles of transformation and transfiguration.

How I long for you,

like a lover longs to be loved.

 

Along the sea of Galilee,

I stare off into the distance.

I no longer am who I once was.

Nor who I once was is who I am.

 

O Israel, O Israel.

 

I shall never be the same.

 

The Sea of Galilee from Tiberias – January 2018

IMG_1988IMG_3851

 

30124618_10156289915812480_7073976647371718656_n

I wonder…

I wonder.

I wonder what would happen

if I shed the layers of

things

that hold me down.

 

I wonder.

I wonder what would happen

if I shed the limited

thinking

that keeps me imprisoned

in self-shame and

disbelief.

 

I wonder.

I wonder what would happen

if I looked at wonder

at the clouds in the sky

loving all that is creation.

 

I wonder.

I wonder what would happen

if I looked at wonder

at the words that I penned

and the

questions that I ask.

 

I wonder.

I wonder what would happen

if I focused less on

illusions

and more on

Divine nature.

 

I wonder.

Do you wonder too?

 

Quote

I am a pilgrim

I am a pilgrim.

I set out in time and space,

hearing a call that only I could hear.

 

All that was old,

no longer remains.

Shed like winter garments

on the first hot late-spring day.

 

Who am I?

I know not.

 

I don’t recognize the face.

The jaunt in my step.

The voice that speaks from depths.

 

Little by little,

moment by moment,

time etches away

the last vestments of a fragile existence.

 

Allowing a shining, new, radiant being

to burst forth

after a time of gestation

in an almost

motherly womb.

 

Who am I?

I know not.

 

What seemed not to be happening

was happening.

Over and over,

day by day,

moment by moment,

until that one instance

 

when I realized that I had arrived.

 

I walked through dark valleys,

questioned deep motives,

cried endless rivers,

and submerged myself in dark silence.

 

And, in the end, I have arisen,

like the morning sun

who stretches slowly

across the horizon,

day after day

sometimes hidden by clouds,

sometimes brilliant with light,

but always still there.

 

I have a new name.

I know who I am.

 

I have shed her.

She is gone.

She lives no more.

 

Here I am.

Here I am.

Here I am.

 

A pilgrim

living in the freedom of what

yet lies ahead

by casting off into a deep ocean

all that was.

 

Transformed by every etching.

I have travelled far.

I have travelled far.

Into deep, distant crevices.

Crevices that mark the geography of my soul.

 

I have travelled far.

There is no turning back now.

I must continue.

I must continue forward into the fog and the darkness.

 

I have travelled far.

But, yet, I am frightened.

I am so frightened.

Of the distance ahead of me and the deep unknowns that lurk.

 

I have travelled far.

To come here.

Right here.

Right now.

 

Pushing toward the peak.

Driven by desire.

Pulled by longing.

 

I have travelled far.

 

Take my hand

and travel with me.

 

I can’t do it alone.

I have travelled far.

 

I need you.