My Mind As A Spiderweb: A Poem

My mind:a spiderweb 
Of a fragile essence -
Woven together, strong 

It hangs open to all
Who wish to gaze at its 
Evidence of process 

But in just one moment 
One tiny child's finger 
And misty strength is lost 

Anxious, distraught, this mind 
The spider's home is naught 
But just thread on the ground 

Again I build and spin 
Until someone comes by 
And simply sees beauty 

Weak enough to crumble
Strong enough to retry
A thousand threads and webs

On and on and on - and

Symbolism: Poetic Prose

I once saw a sky that was full of stars, just like this one is. However, everything between the stars was different. It was still black, but it somehow seemed more solid. It was capable of covering up the stars and almost choking out their flames. 

I once saw a rose bush where none of the flowers were connected to the stems. They would appear in the air above, float there for a moment, like a very calm humming bird and then shrivel and die because no nutrients could get to them.

I once met a person who seemed to live without language.  I kept thinking I must just not be using the right words. I tried everything I could think of, I even used American Sign Language and a variety of written languages, but I could not get any sort of response. I will never know if they understood anything I ever said.

I once climbed to the top of a very tall mountain and met a person who had lived there for  so long that they had forgotten where they had originally come from. All they could remember is that one day they had reached the top, seen the glory, and decided to never leave again. What else even mattered? "Don't you have a family?" I yelled, but they didn't answer. 

Spiderweb: Poetic Prose

I am walking just before dusk. My shoes tap over a worn wooden bridge which glows almost orange in the not yet setting sun. Sunshine seems to be everywhere right now. It makes the red buildings glow, it bursts out from between the trees, and it sparkles like diamonds on the river. It seems like too much glory for the earth to contain. Maybe this is why it is about to leave us for the night. It strikes me as strange that this earth gets brighter before it gets darker.

Something is glistening. Even in all this shine it manages to catch my eye: a simple spider web. It shines in the sun as an intricate design woven tough and strong by a tiny insect. I am reminded of something I heard once about the strength created by the web’s pattern of design. It is hard to believe when considering the thinness of each strand, or the fact that, with one hand, I could destroy the whole thing and its master too. Is it strong or weak, this spider web? In these thoughts I am reminded of myself and I keep walking.

The Multiplicity of Voices: Poetic Prose

So I'm standing in a room right, and this person comes up to me and says "You are a woman, act like it." So I cock my head a little to the side and look at them confused while they say some other stuff. They talk quick. I don't understand them. They walk away. I'm still standing there. Someone else comes running up and starts talking about how mad they are at so and so and I'm pretty sure they are talking about that first person, the one who told me to be a woman and what that should look like. "Who cares!" yells this second person. "Be whatever you want to be, in fact it is your duty as a woman to not be the type of woman they want you to be so that you can show them that you can be whoever you want to be." This person's is angry, whoa! I like the way they get so into it. I like their passion, but holy elephants I have no idea what they are talking about. I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure they just told me that I should be who they want me to be and not who this other person wants me to be because no one should tell me who to be. I'm not sure if that makes sense.

So I'm standing there with all this stuff in my mind trying to figure it out and ANOTHER person comes on up and yells at me for standing around. "Do something! Take action!" and poof they're gone. Do something? Right, OK, but what? WHAT?

So I'm standing their looking at my feet when someone comes up and says "But what do you believe?" "Believe?" I say, "Believe about what?" And they rant at me for hours and hours, telling me what to think and believe about everything under the sun, but they are soon joined by someone else who thinks some other things and then the two of them yell at each other and I'm still standing there, confused and looking at my feet.

Well I suddenly realize my feet won't move if my brain doesn't tell them to, but my brain is so confused I don't know what to do. So I do the only thing I still can do and I sit down. So I'm sitting on the ground and I start to cry because it's the only response I can muster. The tears are flowing when someone rushes up and tells me to stop complaining so I bight my lip and I bight my lip and I bight my lip and I bight my lip, but the tears finally come again and someone else comes and yells at me for not reaching out and getting help. "I'm here for you!" they say and then run away again. Now I have this vague notion that I'm supposed to talk about my problems, so the next time someone rushes over I open my mouth and I talk and I talk and they say "Stop talking and listen!" and someone else says "You think too much!" and another person says "Get up, get up!" And I am so tired of the voices and the yelling so I roll behind a tree and hide.

I close my eyes and plug my ears, but the screaming has somehow gotten inside and I can still hear it, because now I am yelling at myself in all of their voices and there is no escape from the multiplicity of voices, because there is no escape from myself.

Sunshine In My Bones: A Poem

Something rings deep inside

When these words touch my eyes

Like sunshine in my bones

Just what I’ve been wanting

There’s a yearning

I’ve been searching

This viewing is a finding

I’m coming home

All the children of the earth

Search for home with loving arms

Just for somewhere to grow

As water fills our souls

Wilderness: A Poem

I’ve wandered in this wilderness for far too long

But I keep on hearing this one great song

It draws me onward

Though I stumble and slip

It draws me upward

Though this darkness is thick

It is the song of a million witnesses

Of the most unimaginable beauty

And I too want to see the magnificence

Though something always seems to stop me

So mine is a small voice crying in the darkness

Give me water so I won't thirst,
Bread that I shall never hunger,
Light so I'll never stumble

But really all I long for is a glimpse of that one face

And a true encounter with the glorious beauty of grace

Perspective: A Poem

We are but specs of dust
And perspective is to know
I am not alone and you
Are no bigger or smaller

I am neither lesser nor better
For we are but two specs
Like stars in the sky
Bright pinpoints in darkest night

But in my heart it's larger
A star is a great fire
And so are both you and I
Though we are but specs