I don’t know what I’m doing
I don’t know how to adult
Waking up everyday to
Some new unknown challenge
I’ve been told that God doesn’t
Give you more than you can handle
They don’t tell you God lays out
A buffet of mild to spicy experiences
I don’t think I’m a fan of buffets
-gws
I am no poet
I am an observer
A curious wallflower
Peering into the places most do not dare
The voyeur blending in and watching
Keenly aware of the scene and vibe
I am no poet
I am a witness
A lyrical historian
Peeling back the layers of what is obvious
Making note and taking measure
Commenting on the beauty and the bruise
I am no poet
I am a documentarian
A mental photographer
Describing the visage of the soul
Capturing the form of feeling
Casting light on dreams
I am no poet
I am an illustrator
A linguistic artist
Scratching lines on paper
Forming images from curves of ink
Building portraits from words
I am no poet
I am a woman
A single breathe in the wind
Performing no obvious magic
Sharing the same life experience
Human and divine
-gws
I want to revisit the joy of cartwheels in summer grass
Serenaded by the wing beats of bees and the chorus of hummingbirds and sparrows
I want to drowse amongst dandelions while playing
Warshak games with passing clouds in azure skies
I want to hide beneath curtains of willow branches
Making friends of the trees with whispered secrets
I want to run time backward
To when summer days were never ending
And daydreams frolicked in the warmth of long lazy unburdened afternoons
I want to sit suspended in the amber of youthful memory
Its glowing lens casting every scene in warm nostalgic hues
Golden hour light cast upon fading Kodachrome images
That compose dust mote-filled summer slideshows of my heart
-gws
I loved myself plenty
I spent so much energy on him
there was none left for me
But the echos of my knowing
The spark that was always the heart of who I am
Could not be extinguished
No matter how hard he tried
And he raged against
My defiance to submission and subjugation
And when I could endure no more
I was done
I breathed my flame back to life
And I am once again its keeper
Ensuring it is fed and protected in any storm
I will not be dimmed or diminished again
“I am done,” is the quietest, most power-filled sentence in a woman’s lexicon.
-gws
I am lucky to have cultivated a lush garden of beautiful, meaningful friendships throughout my life. I am luckier, still, to be planted in the deep soil of my friends’ gardens where they shower me in love, and light, and their amazing company. To exist in a well tended garden cultivates a gratitude so profound it can only erupt from me in joyful colors painted with hugs, laughter, and happy tears like sacred rain upon parched earth.
- gws
Listening to a physicist waxing poetic
In a live stream about theoretical physics, quantum mechanics,
Philosophy, US politics, Mandela Effects, and more
As he stands in front of the Large Hadron Collider
While I drink a perfect cup of coffee and start my Tuesday
My soul and my brain are extraordinarily happy
-gws
And so comes the end of the heaviest chapter
The plot twisted dramatically
In the hands of an unreliable narrator
Linear time fractured
Slowed
Ran backward
Perspectives shifted
Creating more confusion than clarity
Muted colors of nostalgia dull recollections
Emotional sharpness blunted
The hollow ache of a long goodbye
Completed with the deliberate placement
Of an arch-ending period.
The next act begins with a page turn
“THE NEXT CHAPTER” written atop it
-gws
I stand with Lady Hecate in her place of power
The Great Crossroad
The intersection of past and present
Lessons and possibility
She holds her lantern aloft
Illuminating my options
I can see that each step
Each choice
Leads to another nexus
Another crossroad
For life is a spiderweb of crossroads
An infinite collection of choices
Interconnecting to plot our life's course
In this moment of perfect presence
I breathe
I reach out with my intuition
With deep faith and trust I step forward
Toward a future of my own choosing
-gws
You have said a lifetime's worth of, "I love you" in the last ten months
I remember that you rarely said it in the twenty-three years
When I needed to hear it like my blood needed oxygen
What am I to do with your, "I love you" now
Now that I cannot love you anymore
Oh! My heart still loves you
Still wrings drops of hope from itself
Hope hanging heavy from tear tracts
To be wiped bitterly away
Because there is no hope left
Hope is just a tether
Preventing me from moving on
From acknowledging the truth that
The third body is dead and has been for a long time
Love's hope nearly destroyed me
Consumed me
My heart will not let me pry this foolish hope from her hands
So instead, I have to lock it away
In the dark, cold, empty cavity that is my chest
Heart unable to comprehend that I do this for our own good
It screams and howls in the echoing silence
"One last chance!"
"One more time!"
"Maybe this time! Maybe! Just maybe!"
"I love you" manifests no magic here
"I love you" will not call forth a miracle for us
I still love you,
Too
But I HAVE to love me,
MORE
-gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 