I hope God is like Alanis Morissette in Dogma Child-like and irreverent Joyous and delighting Completely aware of and careful with her power
I hope God is an every-man like in Joan of Arcadia The janitor or bus driver The gym teacher or barista The stranger we choose to see and who sees us in return
I hope God is like George Burns in Oh, God! Humorously enigmatic and witty Persistent and plain A pleasant old man testing the boundaries of faith
I hope God is a cast of many players Everyone of them divinely human For we are no less God than God is us Each of us part of the other in the oneness and wonder of all things
Roses and rust and rivulets of blood Rubies and robins and radiant flame Victory red lipstick of defiance Red flesh of cool plums in summer Winking red of garnet facets in grandmothers' rings Washington Reds hanging from autumn apple trees Red hand prints representing the missing and murdered Blinking red lights lining dark empty streets Red dresses whipping and swirling to tango on stages Crisp red uniforms of Beefeaters on guard Red sports cars cruising the streets of LA Cardinal red of Stanford Sports Crimson Red and Columbia Blue of my high school Cherry red inside a pie Glossy candy apple red Ripe red strawberries perfuming summer picnics Enflamed red of flushed cheeks Sacred menses red Red haze of rage blurring vision Bruised red of kissed lips Fruit punch red staining faces Watermelon red dripping from hands Red wine glowing in glasses Berries bright red in winter snow
Spring has arrived Birds sing sweetly In quickening branches bursting with blooms My winter soul peers out of bleary eyes Before I pull the covers over my head
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
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
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
Isn't it funny how carpenter bees think themselves no less dainty than honey bees? They faithfully believe the flower will support them even when the stem bends toward the ground. They aren't exactly wrong.
Words Wishes and Wisdom 