The girl who was once from NYC, transplanted to the sticky trap of the CT countryside. Teacher, singer, writer, hippie chick. Dancer along the path through the dark.
~May words and music and laughter light the way to kindred spirits, kind of heart~
Also a Mommy. That's the most important thing that's happened along the way, but not what this blog will be about.
myself, the words, the world that’s mine
in practice or in peace
I think, let go, I reach
and seem to still fall short
somehow, some way, always…
with coffee and a smile
I’ll try again today…
from end over end
each thought, then the next
the fight, the flight
the way to find how strong I am
to know it’s not for pride
for what beliefs I feel are right
and hurt so deep
it can’t convey itself unto the ending
So when I sit within myself
and feel the bones beneath my skin
and know the nothing felt inside
I fill with air to then collide
with all the life-breath, kiss myself
into existence, transform, tell
of better parts and pieces
so to serve into my soul…
And wishing hard upon the stars I stir myself to become whole…
methinks I’m off to read. My writing seems a bit slow and I need some peace and easy which can so be found in books. Mellow day. Mellow night. Last week of the school year ahead. Lots to do and then onto a summer of come-what-may as I seek what can be sought, let go of what can’t be had, and live each day as well as I can, keeping company with my kids and friends, and sometimes family. Writing, singing, digging my toes into the sand, riding my bike and running on trails. Swimming as much as I can. The lake days await and the ocean calls my name. And maybe, somewhere along the way some of the other things, those important things that I don’t have, will also come to be, as I steer clear of what helps me not, and stick with all that helps me find and keep my center.
I find my next set of thoughts…
(#Dry wit and sadness) is me…
in a nutshell from years of being on the outside looking in at what everyone seems so easy with, but I can’t have because I can’t play pretend…
Sometimes when things happen to you when you are young, that are heavy and heartbreaking, and then nonstop…, you don’t ever know how to be light and easy, and that’s me.
Dry wit and sadness, is me. I will no doubt write something else with that title; that which came to me off the cuff as I wrote my poem earlier tonight. It’s those thoughts that come unbidden that seem to capture so much in so little.
Goodnight, now. Sweet dreams.