Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
I walk in shoes I never thought I’d fit,
I am the peasant
I am to be the sage,
To preach of hope and light,
Not evangelize
or exorcize demons that my own words conjure,
Who I am becoming,
I have yet to
And cannot wait to meet her,
What words will she learn
To speak to the heart
To warm, to nurture, to comfort?
I will be hopeful
But not crush self with expectation,
My determinism here dances
With a deity of patience,
For closeness to the Divine is what is driving,
I will be prudent, remain grounded,
Whatever the result,
For the path is winding and
May lead
The long way around
If, when, maybe
I become a minister
I will pray for you,
As I always do
I will pray for love and peace,
And possibility of
What is good
That perhaps we yet have not even known to be,
I will be the poetess
The priestess to the unknowable infinite
Will grant space for sorrow
To comfort and heal,
Will learn patience as I have never known,
Will be broken so that I might grow infinitely toward whole
I will cultivate bravery
For self to be for the other,
Will challenge ignorance,
Starting with my own,
If I become,
What I am dreaming,
To be
It starts with realizing
In this moment
I am already studying
My introspection is part of the path
Perhaps I have always been
–This student of people;
This student of life;
This student of philosophy,
Always searching for the meta reasons
Now acknowledging reverence and awe in cosmology,
In universal psychology,
Wondering why at an unanswerable level,
But through humbled acquiesce to the universe
In all it’s mystery
If and when I am granted a title,
I will surely not need it anymore,
I will find most satisfaction
In being the eternal learner to the everything,
–That I seek most
Self realization
That I am already
a student preacher
She thinks in verse,
In a spectrum of iridescent hues,
Her wonderings and worryings,
Are as a mystic,
Learning her craft,
This is a long road
One she is both
Always and never
Alone,
The great awakenings she found
Were the shock
To the system,
The test,
The cure,
To sustain life,
To blossom the hidden bud,
Within her core,
She is learning everything
With new eyes,
A new mind,
A new love,
Appreciation,
Of life,
Of light
There is something
That pulls at my core,
That nudges me awake
With gentle urgency,
Immediate need for something that has always been,
Unknowingly,
Within me,
never before could
My mind envision
A future that I might perhaps
Come to see,
The universe opens up to me
And speaks
That I should know:
The universe is always here,
Always aware,
It bends and folds,
Twists, turns,
And we,
Things made of Stardust,
Move with it,
For we are part and parcel
Of this thing called creation,
And as I feel this movement in my soul
I know something,
This unnamable,
never fully knowable everything
Is calling me
She of Letters 