Well, here it is, my first poem on the blog! It’s real, it’s raw, I just wrote it this morning and it’s about me and where I’m at. Read it, drink it, smell it, feel it. =)
It’s been a long time coming now, this realization.
I’ve reigned inside this fire and it’s burnt me through and through.
And now the wind is calling.
And it’s still winter, the snow is still fresh, the ice is still hard, the trees are still bare and my heart is finally healing.
I can’t hear anything beyond the silence.
I can’t see anything beyond this mountain.
And I can’t hear your voice, but I can feel your breath.
They say it will take a while, this climb I have before me.
They also say it’s the darkest before the dawn.
I’m not sure what to believe in and I don’t know how to believe in me.
So I breathe.
I start with this breath, this moment, this wonder of life,
Because I’ve been praying for salvation, I’ve been praying for faith, I’ve been praying for a life I can be alive in, but all this time, I’ve really only been praying for love.
I want to know, not just imagine, what love tastes like, what love feels like when it’s whispered across your skin, when love’s caress wakes you in the morning and puts you to sleep at night.
I’ve wondered what love’s face looks like when it’s staring into your eyes, I’ve dreamt of love’s tenderness, of it’s softness, of it’s gentleness.
I’ve ached for it’s wholeness and I’ve yearned for it’s completion.
I thought it was a chase, an adventure, a wanderlust.
I’ve been mistaken though.
I believed it to be in a lover’s touch or a child’s laugh.
I searched for it in the belly of the monster, in the darkness of my own shadows.
I’ve wrapped myself inside my pain, hoping to find love hidden there.
But I never found it, because I kept avoiding the one place love has always been, my own heart.
So call me tomorrow, or next week or next year and I’ll tell you the truth I know to be true:
I found love and it’s here, right here, in the center of my own chest, in the middle of my own exhale, in the curve of my own fingers, in the pulse of my own veins.
Don’t fear for me, or pity me either, because sometimes it takes a while to realize that love is walking in God’s hand and pain is the inside of love and struggle is how we get to know who we are.
I believe I’ll make it through, to the other side of the mountain, across the tundra of my past, through the heartache of my story, beyond the defenses of my ego, I’ll find her, the sacred self I am meant to be, yes I will.
It can’t be long now; I can feel something emerging from within…
A view of the Indian Ocean from southern India.