Whispered In The Wind

Whispered In The Wind
Just a fairy blowing in the wind, singing tales to the west wind

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Getting There, Grain Of Sand

I've got a lot of questions
Why does poetry often come served with salt confusion?
Is it wrong to say I don't know my heart but I want you there?
Is it right to always ask God the answers to questions I shouldn't know?
And why do the young often feel so very old?
My dad says don't push angst
But sometimes even the best envelope heart can't hold freeze dried drama
Junior year, still starring at the X on my treasure map, not any closer
No special story, my old heroes killed off one by one
See, That's the problem with a mind prone to critical analysis
I had this formula:
Be random
dress a little differently
act smart
giggle often
formula for self acceptance, my own acceptance of myself
But maybe, I'm not ready to accept myself
Maybe, I'm living past, present, future
And I've sculpted myself for a long time now
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but my own opinion of myself will always hurt me
I'm just seaweed scraps, driftwood bones
waiting for substance, waiting for real form
an owl woman or a butterfly child...I'm waiting
Right now though, I just want to accept that I'm whole
I'm the cocoon of everything I want and will be
But I want it back
That feeling: I can conquer the sky and sea
the walk of a warrior princess, bloodied knees but head held high
A cloud walker, ink spinner, dream broker
I'm sick of tasting sand when I bite my lip
...But if we can see the world reflected in a grain of sand
If a single house holds a thousand secrets
then a grain of sand knows the notes of a thousand songs
One doll, the lives of a dozen children grown and gone
the pattern of a thousand lives connected on a single sidewalk
and if this one beach I', standing on knows the weight of a million feet
Then who am I to say I want to be more than a grain of sand on my beach right now?
Who am I to believe I need to feel strong, to be strong?
Who am I to tell myself I am not good enough for my own self?
Who am I?
I'm a grain of sand, flower petal, bird feather
...and that's enough for now
Because it doesn't take an entire ocean to change the entire course of history
just one wave
And I'm getting there
Obscurity is a place where the world unfolds in cracked eucalyptus leaves and song lyrics
till you're ready to take on the full kaleidoscope view
And I'm getting there
One grain of sand
a cracked blue fingernail
dusty shoes
I'm just preparing for a self coronation
I'm barely bat mitzvah-ed into this world, I'm a new soul
Young bud, waiting for rose
I'm getting there
I'm getting there
So right now, right here
Sitting on the cold sand of Bolinas Beach
I'm burying the words, writing the intention
I accept that “one grain of sand is enough”
and waiting till my words hit the ocean
waiting till my intention finds my wave
Cuz I'm getting there
I'm getting there

No comments:

Post a Comment

"I want warm summer nights, to lie in a hammock, staring at the stars, telling you stories. "

"I want warm summer nights, to lie in a hammock, staring at the stars, telling you stories. "
"When asked not to make waves, I just smiled and said, don't worry this is just a ripple"