The hardest things I've ever done
Involved dying to my own pride
Becoming meek in the presence of devastation
And strong in confidence
Of the things that matter
And make up my being
Like forgiveness
That is so vast it surpasses natural reason
The kind Jesus afforded everyone
It's strange how fighting the current
Of what we've always been taught
About self, privilege, and what we are heirs to
Is one of the hardest things we will ever do
Because the hardest things
Are a forge to make us a stronger
More beautiful
And pure
But nothing was ever transformed
Without giving up
What used to be

Sister Moon

It's cold here, but not for the reason you may think. I wait for you, and hold those who are dear and lost to you and the air loses its warmth with every passing moment. Time simply drains the burst of energy until another of my children come home. It is those days I remember when I was like them and why I have chosen to guide them through the fog. Together we watch, and we remember. I see those left behind looking for ways to hold on. It is they that pain my spirit, and I wish for the peace of closure to cover their refusal to let go. My dear, I am not a dark force as I've been painted to be, on the contrary! You may think it trite to proclaim, but I am indeed sacred, you just can't see it because those you have known and loved have lost perspective of my purpose.

Centuries ago, I was welcomed with reverence and respect. My arrival is never one desired (at least by those who remain). Yet, in the days of ritual we had an understanding. I paused, hovering over those that processed and fought so that I may embrace them with a breath of tranquility until they finally accepted my place with their lost love. You see, despite what you have been taught I do not seek to leave behind any of my children. I am their keeper in the late and sacred chapter. You cannot fathom their weariness when they come to me- you are not meant to see it. Yet you are meant to trust that they are safe with me until you can join us. None of them leaves before it is their time, but my clock is not always in sync with their own. For those that feel robbed of memories and moments I seek to help heal and realize what lies beyond as the hourglass runs out.

In days of the Vikings, there was a beauty in the departure of a boat burning into the horizon. When Egypt ruled I was welcomed only once a process of preservation was complete, and I was happy to oblige. Whether in a home surrounded by days of mourning and love, or at the foot of a pillar that finally burnt to the ashes on the ground I have always been a willing woman in waiting.

Yet here we are- me, you, and your blind denial. Why do you fear me so? When my sister pulled you into the light, the first breath you drew sealed a certainty that we would someday meet. I do not choose when I am called, I simply show up when I am beckoned. I love you as only one who dwells as an eternal guardian can. I want the most elegant, authentic, meaningful end for the significance that was your life. Whatever that looks like, I will be there as a witness and walk with you into the light that welcomes us beyond.

We have yet to meet, but my sister she tells me you are quite the beauty. She treasures your laugh and the way that those who encounter you remember your eyes that twinkle with joy. I won't get to experience this until after your final work is done but I do long to know you as a friend. As such I just wanted you to know that you needn't be afraid. Prepare for that day, but don't dwell- it won't delay or speed it along. Above all else I ask that you tell those you care about that our relationship doesn't have to be one of fear or pretending you are still there. How it pains me to see new friends painted and stitched and made to look as if my sister is still witnessing their light. It does not influence their exit, other than to make one last stance of denial that I exist.  

We will meet, my friend. But when we do I will be gentle and we will not go until you are ready. My only wish is that your monumental exodus would be infused with the sacredness and ritual that defines your magnificent self. You are so beautiful! So, remember that all that is confirmed in this life is that you will meet my sister and I, and those that surround you will hold in their memory the impact of each of these fateful events. Be sure your heart is honored, lovely, because ours is the only ritual of the two you can orchestrate- may it be as truly memorable as your heart.

I woke up today
And my arms were covered in tattoos
I picked cherries from our tree
Drove to work with last nights smoke
Still in my eyes
I danced last night
With my free bird inspiration
It felt new and old
Colorful
I felt old
And it was beautiful
The sky let go enough to breathe
Gentle drops of celebration
My chest pounded
With bass too strong
And it felt alive
The air filled with vibes
Our ears feasted on luscious sound
It was afternoon when my eyes cleared
My pants were tight
My boots high
Today I woke to my best friend
And Two dogs stretching wildly about
I looked in the mirror at my hair short
And I smiled
Because I was alive
To live last night
And greet this new day
I see color again
Im so glad I fought to be here
I forgot how glorious it feels to live

But more than that,

Thank you God 

For creating people

That make music

And others that love it

Thank you

For your tailor made love

That speaks in the many languages 

Of our hearts 

This petrichor

Is delicious

I'd endure

A thousand storms

To just breathe it in

Once more

It's been almost 15 years, and I still miss this kid a whole,whole bunch. <3 

Seems like this time of year he pops into my mind more often as I wonder who he would be today. 

It's the not knowing, and the drifting apart, the words left unspoken 

that still allow that void to hurt just a bit, even after all this time.

 But still having the gift of his words is something I'm thankful for. 

This year we're looking at the inside of 30 and although I never got to see him fulfill his abundant talents beyond 15, I know he's got Heaven vibin' up there. 

I'm not in a hurry, but I know I'll see him again :) 

Golden Memories

By Spike Sherwood

We used to play out in the rain

when we was little kids

running up n down the block when we was little kids

golden memories

take a step back and breathe

one breath at a time

cuz you don't know when ya die'n

so say your prayers often

n hit your brother soft then

if there is a God you'll be in his good grace

maybe you'll go to heaven

nobody's been to the place

but they knowits of safe

golden angel face

vice versa a disgrace

for any human race

n live a equally treated

neva defeated, well breeded, safe seated

full feeded, flaw deleted, goal meted 

always pleaded

life

life or death

its all a fucking mess

a mind scrambling 

constant gambling 

voice rambling 

clump of shit

n neva get rit of it

so sit back, n clear yer mind

n remember all the good times

vibe to ya favorite rhymes

then cry about the sad times

n hope you live a few more sun shines

golden memories should fill the mind

I thank god they do in mine

"The love of knowledge is a kind of madness."
-C.S. Lewis