Butterfly Returns

Butterfly went home
After their first flight;
Home to cocoons
And caterpillars,
Who each longed to know of their possible future,
But could not yet understand
What air beneath one’s wings
Could feel like,
Each at their own time to cocoon
Metamorphosis awaiting at their own pace,
In their own way;
Not all will get to fly
For some time is much shorter
But they all change,
They all in the end are freed
Of corporeal vessels
Of various form,
Even if they will never know
The flight of a butterfly,
They all may appreciate
The diversity in their shapes
And the cycle
That unites them all.

Rain, On My Side of the Street

It’s raining
On just my side of the street;
Don’t believe?
Come, Come and see;
Feel the water,
upon what was dry skin,
Feel my different perspective,
That is so close
But won’t touch yours ;

“Hey, what’s it called,
This anomaly?”

“The scientific reasoning?”

“And why you, not me?”

“Or does it even matter?”

If you come over,
Is it still “You” versus “Me”,
When the rain is shared?

Break Molds

I break molds,
Always have;

Despite how one might read me
I compulsively add caveats,
Exceptions to the case;
Once upon a time,
Frustrated by being outside boxes provided
I aimed to understand,
Why the damn boxes even existed,
A lifetime up to now
I realize they were created for the same reason
I was on a quest
–To understand,
A something that is beyond
Our understanding

See I was never an anomaly
I was just the first
and only me;
My exceptions broke a mold
that never truly fit,
It’s people like me who continually fix it
–The question,
Not the answer;
It’s ever expansive,
The knowing of self,
It’s the frustration,
The confusion,
The loss and despair,
That makes us gaze in a mirror one day
And appreciate the person there;
Without the pains,
the pleasure of being
Is never so sweet,
lost to be found,
We only appreciate
And think to look up,
From the ground;

I break molds
Always will

Guiding Me

Naming values
Is easier said
Than done,
Defining what motivates,
What drives,
What guides,
Is like catching the breath you breathe,
But, it can be done,
It can be done,
To claim a fraction of one’s identity,
What guides me?
Belief in good;
In the innate neutrality of all nature;
In the naivete of mind, driven by self-preservation, for survival;
In a unity, interconnectedness of all beings,
-Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually;
In the reality that there is more than we can ever know;
That minds and knowledge are a gift;
In ultimate truth, unencumbered by belief;
In the beauty and necessary of diversity- cosmic creativity;
In the innate equal worth of all humans;
In the equal value of all creatures;
In the need for salvation as a daily occurrence, not for the end of times, or judgement;
In the reality of karmic balance;
In a spiritual realm, that we may never understand, though we might catch glimpses;
In evolution as a part of Divine creation;

This list is a theological reflection of mind,
Capturing pieces of my soul in diction,
But it is endlessly incomplete,
As I grow,
Moment to moment,
Understanding more,
But these remain with me,
The realized and unrealized,
Guiding in step,
Guiding in deed,
Guiding me.


He sees the difference,
Between us,
In our views,
In our tastes,
In our skin,
And he celebrates
Out loud,
Letting it slip off his tongue,
But I was taught we are all the same,
But I knew we were different,
But I just saw beauty in it,
How I envy his missing social mores,
That allow him to verbalize
What I was reared to keep tucked under tongue,
I want to learn,
To be like him,
To identify the differences and make them known,
For their existence is a secret,
We all pretend not to know,
Free my eyes to see,
Free my voice to speak this truth
When it need be,
For as I know,
In this difference,
Is human beauty

“We Are All the Same”

We want to say
“We are all the same,”
And believe it with our core,
It’s the message we were taught from cut and pasted MLK,
We don’t see the whole picture
If we close our eyes and assert the truth of our sameness,
But are we all the same?
Not in experience,
I cannot say I’ve lived a day in your shoes,
To appreciate how life is as you,
Human, sentient, even then variation makes our experiences
Location, soci political climate,
Characteristics that dictate our place in it,
Social qualifiers that mark our skin, our minds, our bodies, our heritage,
And the histories behind them,
Must not be glossed over,
It must be worked through,
To see the truth beneath,
And the real meaning meant
Of “we are all the same”.