Day 21 - On Surrendering to the Universe.
"five days under water.."
Sahmeer from young the giant has a way of singing "islands" that leaves me feeling like a heart drying up in an hourglass desert.
this isn't the first time you'll find me writing to the mood of the vast blue.
here is it universe.
i am five days underwater. i am floating off the coasts. i am no longer pursuing the mermaids that siren call the night into becoming sky. i am taking the poems written for one and turning to the realization that they have always been poems for all.
that they have always been poems written for myself.
to me.
for me.
for the girl crushing on time like hammer.
for the woman waiting to be more than what could have been.
i am still learning how to be honest with all the parts of myself. you would think age and distance would do something to a girl learning how to love herself. it's a funny thing,
time. it allows for transformation. once we think we've figured ourselves out, we're onto the next skin that has yet to be shed.
we got too many gods living inside of us to be just one thing at a time.
i am
learning how time doesn't work in our favors all too often. i am relearning patience. a different kind of wait.
the kind of time that only has to offer empty hands and faces that blur.
clocks are beginning to look that way too.
empty hands and faces that blur.
patience like living in the wrong time zone. on the wrong street. in the wrong ocean.
how the wind is the only woman to push you forward, to grace your face against sea breeze.
how you, are the only love you needed at a quarter century of breath.
Sahmeer sings, the drums play, the waves crash, the phone does not ring. No one is home. I have loved all the ghosts away and forgiven them to the sun. This is not the same poem as written four years ago. There are no more haunting here. There is no candle light on the porch to guide the lost home. Instead, there is just the dust collecting on the window panes. There busy bodies becoming more shadow than company. The bed is not made, the dishes have not been washes, the sand has not been swept out of the room. I am too much go to stay. Too gone to be in one place now days. Too much care for the village to clean the home. I will say that i am not looking for love out here. but what kind of lie would that be? We are human aren't we? We long for touch. For connection beyond friendship. For flint spark and electricity to combust between two beings. We secretly want to know if someone can make forest fire in the attics of hearts. In the hidden places where we hide so many heirlooms of ourselves. Want to know if someone will discover our world and make it flat again.
Maybe i am scaring myself writing this. fearful of what eyes would gaze here. Do I sound lonely? And why would I be afraid to sound lonely? What loneliness but time with ourselves we have not become comfortable with. There is difference between lonely and being alone.
What would you think of me then?
Do you see yourself between the lines here?
Do you smirk?
Did you read this twice and find something different each time?
But this is just another rant. Another freewrite. Another day to watch the days pass and write the salt out of me.
Tonight, I surrender to you Universe. I am longer chasing fantasy. I will be what is to be. What you may have in store for me. Let it come if it must. And let it stay and float off the shores with me if it may. I run until the sweat is pouring off skin. cry until the levees have dried. and i will swim in the sea until i am reminded of how much island i truly can and will always be.