to my little valentine

My dear little Valentine,

You are the greatest love of my life. I know I should give more credit to your dad, the first greatest love of my life, since he had a role in bringing you into the world. The experts warn us that it’s your spouse who will stay with you when you get old, not your child. But my daughter you are only two years old. What is a mom supposed to do but still be completely in love?

You showed me a love bigger than any love I’d imagined.

It is with you that I learned that love is neither feelings nor actions; that Love is a state of being between you and me. That is why you never care much for my repetitions of “I love you”, and you never say it back even though you can. And I finally come to realize how redundant and inadequate that three-word-phrase feels, at least at this stage. But I’ll keep at it of course, because all that love wants to be expressed. And in case one day we’ll both become shy at expressing it.

You teach me that fatigue, frustration, doubt and joy can coexist in any given moment, and that joy is the one that can override all the others when I didn’t think it was possible. You show me the full spectrum of experiences.

I love you no matter what — that is my job, and I hope to do it well. You love me no matter what — you are the gift and the miracle.

Love,
Mama

valentine

poem: let go & be like LEGO

 

Fear patched up the shell
too many times, for a deceptive
perfect appearance.
The broken parts inside rattle
for release, to spill,
to be messy, clueless, free,
useless, inconsistent, the opposite
of a coherent and purposeful existence, like
a pile of LEGO
full of potential.

Courage and Love resist
putting ourselves together
in the only boring way we know.
They dare us to lay fallow and still
with uncertainty and the unknown
like fertile soil.
Life, on its own,will show us
how we’ll blossom and die
for many more cycles.

poem: (untitled)

What if
I no longer try
to decide
where
I’ll end up
But only try
to keep my head up
and eyes on what’s good
and the things I desire
and my feet a servant
to my heart

It’s been such a while since I posted! Thank you for anyone who’s here and reading.

If you like the poem, leave me a comment to say hi! 🙂

 

poem: heart crafting

At the end of the why’s,
How could you’s, and
How did it’s, and
How did I’s

You know you’ve reached
the end because your heart is still
there on the floor
with your dream,
in a thousand pieces, and none
of the questions or answers
have put them
back together.

Finally it’s morning,
A foggy one, perfect
for some quiet crying
And crafting.
Scoop up all the pieces,
Dunk them into the beakers of
Tears you’ve cried over
The years. Watch the dust
Separate and sparkle against
The sun. Why not add some
Real glitter for fun,
Or pour it all into a bigger
Vessel, decorated with
Stickers and ribbons.

I could put it all back together
like a puzzle. But I might just
Let it live in a swirl.

poem: Out of nowhere I hummed a little lullaby

Out of nowhere I hummed a little lullaby
One tune among millions stored in my head
In infinite space that takes up no space
For you can cut my brain open
Yet not find a single song
To be played.

Just like one day you’ll leave your body
Whether it’s damaged or intact.
They say you’ll live in my heart.
But my arms would ache for your weight
My body an empty concave.
My heart cannot 3D print you
The way my mind can play your favorite tape.

So this is what our body is for
To feel our love, in ways better and more.
What a wonder it is we meet equipped
With our mind
And our body.

Now a different tune escapes my lips
I’m my own streaming device,
Speakers, a portable karaoke
As well as a happy audience
All in One.

POEM: A bath for your past

 

Bring your bleeding heart
and your tainted past
for a bath at the park.

Run it under the breeze
Sink into the quiet
whispers of the trees
Let the birdsong lather
up the crusted mind
Soak in the sunshine
to wash away
your fossilized tears.

See the purity in the eyes
Of the squirrel passing by?
You
are part of that reflection.

 

poem: Genie in a Bottle

For Moms

Grant me non-bleeding nipples
Grant me a well fed babe
Grant me Freedom
from the breast pump
Before I go insane.

We fear the imperfect
We mistake the Ideal
as Natural
We worry we fret we believe
In battle.

Baby formula!
You’re a genie in a bottle.
For if I can’t survive the now
There’s not going to be a tomorrow.

 

The Day I took my Past to the Park

One day I took my tainted past to a secluded park. I’d stopped working on it, pushed it to the back of my mind, where it became the ghost of my shadow, a secret too painful to keep. Now I laid it on the grass, a coward’s confession to a non-verbal audience.

All the while, however, the sky stayed sunny. The breeze did not avoid me. Squirrels did not start throwing stones at me. Trees rustle, birds chirp, as they always do. Their unanimous non-response startled the voices in my head, a quiet coup to their self-righteousness.

My recklessness, my mistakes, my so-called ruined-ness, now looks no bigger than a fly on the buddha’s shoulder. It hopped on the wind and rode away.

Quiet pooled around me like water, dissolving the cracked, dried stains of my life and carry away with it my fossilized tears.

an invocation: Your Highness, Come!

(when you sit still/meditate, and look for your yearning, and let that grow into a vision…)

Your Highness, Wings of Magnificence, Dancing Priestess of Artistic Expression, Come! Fly over my ship so that I can follow you! Let me ride on the moving island that is your stretched out wings and soar to our hearts’ desire!

I’ve felt you doing jumping jacks inside my heart, knocking atoms into a mexican wave all the way to my shoulders. I’m ready, I’m ready! Break my skin and grow me some wings!

Let me grab you by your claws and swing into a long-awaited life-saving airlift from the dirt of life to which I had banished myself, when I used to devalue my life based on society’s lies. Let me bury my face into the hairs on the back of your neck for comfort. Let me lose my hold, tumble and roll across your back as you play, I’ll be okay.

Because I’d rather be wild and scared with you than see you caged, or watch you die. Because even when you turn midnight blue and cry tears of pain and exhaustion, I’m no longer crying alone. And we know that wings open and close, just as flowers do, just as seasons change. Because when our heart beat as one, finally we know, finally we are. It is a feeling of forever. A forever power. A feeling of profound peace like your life is complete, while at the same time finally ready to live.

Your Highness, Feathered Creature of Freedom! I beg you to wake now and burst into the sky and make a storm of rainbows with your plumage! Come be my guide and let me make you a priority! I’m not really sure where you’ll take me but I want to go. Because you are the essence of me I wish to fully become. Unapologetically.

you were born a star

706834main_20121113-solareclipse_full
Image: Total Eclipse Australia | NASA

(This came out when I was in need of some mental pampering…writing therapy for self.)

You were born a star, like the sun. Growing up and learning to be good and normal was a path to the total eclipse you’re in now.

But you see, no celestial body could block out all of your light. Your light is spilling out from behind the edges, unmistakably, defiantly, undeniably.

Your brightness is undeniable.

Your true being is unconcealable.

You were always on a natural course to be fully seen again.

Lavishly,
Love x