Saturday, October 23, 2010

No Title

Sometimes I want to sit perfectly still on a mountain top. I want to be at the very top like the flat, barren peak of Church Mountain. I want to sit there and let the elements wear me down molecule by molecule. Sun cracking and drying me, rain spreading the cracks, wind scattering me as far as it can carry me. Sitting there, solidly, still, strong.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Om Lasso

Om can be a crazy metaphysical rope flung out there with intention,
Still my thoughts.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Sister Love

I love my sister. I am so lucky to have an older sister. I'm so lucky to have a sister.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

The Body of Literature

I see your e-reader and it makes me lust for crisp pages,
The smell when I open a book to its center.
Letters pressing through, soft ridges under my fingers.

Monday, October 4, 2010


She’s awake. She’s up. Why so early? 
My body is in instant alert. This seems way too early and she’s gone out to the garage. I’m tense. Is she not sleeping well? Why is she in the garage? It’s still dark out. Adrenaline has me instantly, 100% awake, ready to react to what this day may bring. I’m hyper-vigilant these days. Please let my instincts be wrong. 
Colleen is here. What are you doing here? She is by my side, she is here to calm me, to let me know I’m not alone. The same calmness that she provided me during the “bubble test.” She brings the gravity of a friend who has walked through her own battlefields. The calm that emanates from someone who has made it to a place of peace with her battles. To whom the battles are no longer battles but “process.” Accepted, allowed and unplanned todays. 
Grandma is at the foot of my bed. This seems completely out of character. She always seemed so fragile to me in life, someone to be protected. Someone you want to wrap yourself around to keep out any hurt. Her posture now is erect, alert. I want to apologize to her, tell her I’m sorry I am who I am. I’ve kept her at bay since I came out eight years ago. I don’t want her to be disappointed in me, I feel panicked. Her glance at me says, “Nonsense, you do not need my acceptance. I’m not here right now to pass judgement on you.” That’s the end of the conversation and she turns back toward the bedroom door. She is here to stand guard, to defend and to protect me against sadness, disappointment. Things I am too aware she is an expert at battling. Her presence says, “No, not her. This will not happen.” I’m newly aware of an enormous strength that this little woman possesses. A strength that fills the room and surprises me. I did not know her fully before. 
I hear the sound of eggs whisked in a glass bowl from the kitchen. She is making me breakfast, knowing bad news yesterday will make it very difficult for me to get out of bed today.