‘What does it feel like?’ My beloved asked last night.
‘Mmmmm what it feels like?’
‘Yes. Describe it to me.’
‘Well, it’s amazing. Powerful. It’s energy, it is life.
It’s the high point of a wonderful orchestral chorus.
It’s as if the world collects into itself and then explodes.
It’s a glorious dance of the stars and constellations.
It’s like the big bang splashing the galaxies into position.’

Truth too real

Some truths are too real, too coarse and unpalatable.

They require wrapping and sandwiching so they do not burn the throat or scratch the roof of the mouth.

Your confidence in self and the beauty of your being is a war cry, too terrifying, too loud for most ears.

My dear this world wants you dressed in apologies and to quietly crawl your way through life.

The words and ideas you birth are too hard and heavy.

Child, this world wants those utterances that are tenderized and worn weightless from consideration for oppressors.

Some truths are too disruptive for this age of selective reality.


There’s a tree I know

she sheds all her leaves

(once she even lost all her branches)

it doesn’t mean she’s dead.


She is waiting

sitting within herself

waiting, healing, sleeping

planning, waiting, grieving

waiting, waiting, hoping

believing, waiting, waiting