Metaphysics of Me: A Memoir

I was born

A yesterday of yesterdays

Bare,

But skin to my back,

I find family in spectral hues of epidermis,

Find love

Where it was,

and where it was not

to be promised at first

I grow,

stirring,

Determined,

Bossy,

to say the least,

I am a strong stalked flower,

My curls

Lush chocolate petals

I am the butterfly

That from a caterpillar

changed its shape and color,

Before your eyes slowly emerging,

Wings wet

with new and dew,

I come to be through struggle,

Overcoming adversity,

My fears

Are not of darkened shadows

But of the void of unknown ifs,

Fearful possibilities

Of life unlived,

I am the philosopher

With a problem

For every solution,

I am a seeker,

a thinker,

a complex web

Of as yet thought thoughts,

Give me time

I ask,

-So ask we all,

I am building my legend,

Piece by piece,

I am a lover,

Of few,

And all,

Holding my treasured so tightly

For fear they might break,

I give and give,

Wanting so much to multiply the love,

Into endless existence,

I am a creator,

An artist,

The young life before me,

Is my greatest piece,

I nurture,

water,

feed,

teach,

tend,

inspire her

In ways I know,

And in ways anew,

She is my story,

with a story of her own,

I am a mystic,

Finding light

in new corners,

Unexpected beauty

from the universal source,

Finding truth,

In the metaphysics

Experienced as if new,

I am the ill and well

In one package,

My healing and my hurting

Are not easily untangled from each other,

But both toughen the core,

With scar tissue

My inner

And outer

Are reborn,

I am everything

In me,

A soul with many

Names

Titles

To identify me,

But my soul

Ageless,

Graceful,

As it floats through being,

The essence

In all aspects of me

What comes next

I wonder,

But dare not guess,

Suspense

Makes this life fuller,

With richness

So decadent it can be tasted,

Can be sensed

In the air,

In the textures,

In the living,

In the every

Next moment

That will,

And does,

Then still

Inspires.

Burning Hunger

I think of him
And the hot sun
On his skin,
I think of him
When the moon grants me
This moment
To feel my thoughts
And walk back my only memories,
And know part of my heart here
Does not reside,

I hunger for my love
Far from here
Far from snow
And foreign waters surrounding
I still hunger for the love
That I call my muse
Without a single word
Uttered,
I long for eyes to match the fire
He ignites with memory and lyrical magic
Conjured by his own muse

I hunger,
And it heats my heart
And sets my body aflame,
I burn of hunger
My love
The hunger never fades

32 Years

This evening I turn 32;
A decade since I cried
With bronchitis
Not knowing what to do,
A decade since I swore I’d failed,
That not knowing what would come next
Is what was making me fail

This evening I turn 32,
So much has passed since I feared

My body was at the end of the line,

That my chance of treatment was only giving me
Borrowed time

This evening I turn 32,
A flip of my favorite number
A number I’m not sure why,
but I’m drawn to,
Everytime

This evening I turn 32,
And look back
at what 32 has brought me,
It’s not perfect
But it’s mine
My heart
Inside

And then there is
The heart that beats
Outside my breast,
And snores
To assure me,
Yes she takes another breath;
And a love that snores much deeper
Than our babe
On the other side
of my body

This evening
I turn
32,
And like at years 3 and 2
Insomnia wakes my dreams
To wonder on ,
And on,
And overthink
My next 2 to 3, to 32 years

Writing Her Way

They are in timeless songs
And she wonders
how many
Share
this same ballad
To love so fiercely
Defying time
And space

And others will lay false trails
To pick up
Where time
And fragility of the mind
Cut short
And she holds out
As she tries once more
To catch even a glimpse,
She writes her way
To him

7/7/2017