these wings

higher.

higher.

higher.

in tandem or alone. little machines.

things of fairytales -glass like starches and intricate veins deliver mosaics, light and thin as a crisp. strong.

dreams spill out in wisps.

elevate. hover. move in any direction you like – special mechanisms take you the highest.

tiniest of helicopters, majesty of insects – you cruised earth before she birthed t- rex.

there are kingdoms in you … belief in unseen realms.

#raiseyourfrequency #dragonfly #beauty #poetry

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the angels are preening

I wrote this (and a few others) years ago after my brother died when I was in a lot of physical pain (a separate journey altogether).  We, as a family, were fortunate to be with him -by his side, though many constraints were placed on us before this day.  Constraints that still inspire anger in me.  I’ve never been one to protect and shield. The requests to “not cry” around my brother were not only ridiculous, they were vain and inauthentic.  I will never do that again.  Never.  Finally, the day came when David took his last breath; I’ve never experienced something so significant (except the day my son took his first; that’s another story).  I cried.  I still cry.  It was an honor though to be there.  I will be lucky to sit at the bedside of every loved one I know who dies before me.

it slips in and consumes me.

i thought it was over.

but, it’s a tight grip that wants me to be true.

what’s true is unclear and deep feeling.  it’s overwhelming and constant.

i’m reeling – if my mind turns it off, my body takes it on.

i have limited space inside me.

confining,

the pressure builds, i can’t seem to break a new dawn.

i reach the crest and see the path, but my footing won’t hold – i’m gripping the past.

no longer upright, along come crows – they swoop and caw.

the awe of it distracts me.

a quiet unfolds.

and steeps in me, wisdom behold.

it’s not the end, it’s the beginning.

i am a newborn to death.

the angels are preening.

forgiveness

forgiveness

the people were individual, though it was a general feeling of being left out

anything could have turned it on – just so happened it was one picture

they presented a million faces and i could only see the one

they broke my heart, mended it and broke my heart again

a feeling of togetherness until everything spilled out

mine was theirs, theirs was mine became you keep yours and we’ll keep ours

once in, now out

forgiveness begins

born


Anything born out of fear has an undeniable birthmark.


Insidious, fear will steal your true self, bury intuition and scrap your good nature.

You struggle for sure as it grows … as it reveals it’s limited disposition, but keep it close just in case.

It’s kind of a way out every time you give in; denying possibilities, forfeiting the reigns.

Just be sure to appreciate your hard work of holding it tight and revel in all the ways it’s keeping you down and holding you back.


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