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Coming Back

Coming Back

This year has been incredibly challenging: one of those experiences in which you have to fight to find yourself, and keep yourself here once you have. My level of connection to things that make me whole has ebbed and flowed, but mostly I feel as if New Years Day I was flung head first off my life boat and into the tumult of a dark storm.

Depression, for me, creates this feeling of emergency, and a simultaneous peripheral fog that prevents me from seeing the support I have, or the right steps to take to heal. It is the removal of all things that make me who I am, leaving me with only those basic human survival instincts that tell me I have to find a way to fight for the life I was given. I have slowly fought that sensation of drowning, and finally feel as if I am boarding my ship once again. A huge part of healing for me is getting to a point where I am creating again. Writing again. Sharing joy with others as richly as I am able. I am getting there, and I thought I would take the inspiration I am starting to feel from the world and the people I love and give a little back today.

I wrote this poem a few months back. It is about the unexplainable connections we find in this world, to people, to art, to places and feelings, and the act of coming back to these things over and over again to rediscover the depth of these connections.


The Mountain

Revelation is the ease with which we fail to

Capture the mountain.


The winding trails up and over twisting, veiny roots

unearthed and diving into coddling soil

windows of light between fronds and leaves

Flashing a new glittered thought across eyes at each movement

calm intuition of wind hitting skin with such knowledge of a season turning

fog hanging its foamy head atop evergreens

And wisps bubbling up to join a gathered audience of clouds

Elegance falling to breathe space for celebration of new

Curious chirping of holy ideas that glide and swim about our ears

Each path we select and the feelings we feel for having chosen

The kicking, crunching of feet forward in time


And through tickled conviction, 

Our laugh lines thicken to include the other's

Etched carefully as the empowered forest walls

Which grow up through encouraging soil as we pad along

This mountain born of earthen magic

Changes and stays, an effort we can only use an unnamed sense to know

The silent agreement that a moment is a morsel of churned mulch

A dew drop fallen through sweet lashes

A sacrificial atom with the sole intention of dancing our truth.


But the truth of the mountain will lie still in its peace

Complete yet unknown, our hearts nod their secret growing newer

In the effervescence that coaxes our cells to reconsider their natural fate

We have known the bead of a single moment drips into the full

And the joyous dagger of light that beams between

Will glow brighter by the revelation and unencapsulation

of relearning again and again and again

The mountain where it's always stood for us.

Perplexing Longevities

Perplexing Longevities

Playing with Fear

Playing with Fear