Cast crumbs before the tiny winged thing
believing them to be a gift
from the Almighty, you
You forget that she can fly
and will, if she must
fly miles and miles alone
Majesty her own
she does not need your pittance.
clarity
Gone
her pillow is her company
since illusion has dissolved
to reality
like darkness to dawn
an understanding
that you and she could never work
despite her desire
and she was forced to face
her neediness and loneliness
and in some instances complete lack of any sense of self so lost
she hates it all and how
you strung up her dead dignity
and let it swing in the wind to be ridiculed
she was alive
the girl who once colored rainbows in black and white lines
is unpacking dark emotions
this purge may not bring purity
but it has brought clarity
and she is glad you are gone
Plunge
Leave it to me
to climb the ladder to the high dive
look calmly at the blue waves rippling below
and jump in with both feet
only to realize once the cool water
envelopes me…
I can’t swim.
Unpacking
I’m Lisa, and this is my blog. While I’d like to say I’ve done a million things and I’ve got a laundry list of things I can say about ME and all I have accomplished so I am here to share, I can’t. No gold star. I’m still trying to figure out who I am. That’s, in large part, why I began this blog and why, if you take a look back at some of my earlier posts you’ll see a bit of an evolution. Me, moving in some small way with each post (in essence, a piece of me that I am with some trepidation sharing with the world) toward an understanding of who I am and what I am “about.” I am a work in progress. I am a poet and a writer.
One of the thoughts pervading my mind as of late is, what will I say about myself when I am 50? Fifty years old. A half a century. Two 25 year spans within a lifetime. How will I have changed? Childhood seems far away when I simply look at the numbers, yet hearing a train horn in the distance as I lay in bed can suddenly take me back as if it were yesterday. Sometimes, it definitely feels so.
So there it is. I have no “about.” I have a journey that’s not over yet. A journey that is in constant evolution and one that I have been blessed with the ability to share through words. When I take the time to tap out a simple string, tied together by an idea, a feeling, an emotion, a memory, I connect more with who I am. Perhaps then, when I am 50 I will know more. Maybe then, I will be able to create and clearly articulate who I am, summed up neatly and succinctly on an About page. Until then I will journey and write in this place, this place of words.
Golifely 