How Do You Manage Alone

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I am the fourth daughter to do it alone
Independence and survival are in my DNA
Only child to a single mother
Only granddaughter amongst the cousins
Only kid on my block
I have lived in comfortable aloneness most of my life
Do not believe I do not get lonely
I know how to remedy loneliness
Trusted family
Tribe
Are always a keystroke or "hello" away

I'd prefer to have a partner
To help me raise and support my children
But not at the cost of my independence
My independence is foundational in my peace
If I cannot retain my independent spirit
I cannot sustain my sense of self
I need a partner who walks alongside me
Who understands that I need to run in my wildness
Who does not try to domesticate me
Into something less than myself

Aloneness is not absence or lack
It is the space where I meet myself
It is the door to my Narnia
The place where unfettered dreams thrive
Where words waltz in ballgowns and tails
Where stories bloom from rich soil
Where I sit in conversation with discomfort
Where I sit in conversation with my gods
It is the garden of my delights
And it is as precious to me as air

How do I manage alone you ask
I understand that I'm never really alone
I'm as alone as I choose to be
I'm helped as much as I choose to ask for it
It is not as perfect or simple as these stanzas may imply
But the essence of my truth is here
Simplified
Distilled into a comprehensible version
Of my vast and complex reality
A demonstration of shifting perspective
Being alone carries so much oppressive connotation
I choose to experience it as a necessary liberation
Allowing me to navigate life by my own north star
Inspiring me to never lose sight of myself again

-gws

I Am No Poet

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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

Cartwheels

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com
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 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

Friendship Garden

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

The Next Chapter

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

Crossroads

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