Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
Find me,
I am lost!
Between the lines,
Buried in the pages,
Your words
Guide me back,
To sunlight
And sanity,
To direction
Of what is good
And what is home
I find myself
In this dizzying repetition
Of curiosity,
mystery,
intrigue,
confusion,
loss,
wholeness,
And at last, again
I am
Found.
Who I am today
And who I am becoming,
The Divine knew this
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
Late at night (now early morning)
I lie awake
and dwell on nothing
-the Nothing
that created Something
that is Everything,
and what created the Nothing,
and on and on…
“The path isn’t a straight line; it’s a spiral. You continually come back to things you thought you understood and see deeper truths.”
– Barry H. Gillespie
I can see my healing now,
In my words…
Before, I had grasped widely
for hold of sanity,
My mind spun,
Outlining all the abstracts
Seeing the metaphysics of everything
Until, like the universe
I exploded
In a big bang of psychosis
Then slowly
Though Not understanding the why
I began to pick up the pieces of self
Little by little
I write my way out
And back
And reflect on
What happened?
What had I become?
What was I becoming?
Was I flowering or
Decomposing
When I exploded?
Or both?
Or was this just
Another
One of many
Of my rebirths?
She of Letters 