Magnificence Reigns

Ripples of sunlight across my face, warm.
Closed eyelids dancing with the flickering rays.

Watching a striking rainbow disappear,
bright colours fading into the mist -
I know it existed,
was magnificent,
and served no other purpose but to exist
and be magnificent -
and I was lucky enough to be 
it's witness.

Shots ring out, 
the rainbow fades away -
but in my mind's eye,
magnificence exists -
magnificence reigns.

Still in the rain,
magnificence reigns.

Unwritten Words

My notebooks are filled
with unfinished poems,
my desktop littered with files
of unwritten words,
my journals puzzled
by unraveled phrases,
because I have 
lost the language
that speaks to what I want to express.

'I am speechless' -
a saying
that says it all
but does not reflect the reflections that ramble on
in my babbling brain,
and scream to escape
but cannot cry themselves out
of this 
carefully constructed out-of-control controlled crafted chaotic cleansing...

I am calm,
and overwhelmed.

There are no words -
it is not my place to speak,
or is it?
If it is, 
what do I say?
I scream in silence.

Regardless,
it sounds like 
no one is listening anyway...

Only more cries,
and explosions.

Jerusalem...

...?

... x

Prove it.

Up from the ground
they cry,
'We are not dead!'
Do not bury us alive;
our souls
in the soil,
in the sky.
We remain,
we return,
we fly...
we survive.
Stop mourning the living,
and let us simply live.

{Nabi Saleh, Palestine.

Demonstrations against the Settlements, seen on the right in the photo above, a city on stolen land, and also in the photo of the village with all the red roofs.  Nabi Saleh's main water source was taken by the settlement across the road from their village's hilltop, and they were forced in return to pay 5x more to buy water pumped in from Israel. This village has become well acquainted with death, constant harassment, common arrests of people young and old, and economic devastation.  Remember, they are reacting against an illegal occupation forced upon them, this village did not ask to start a war. People we have come to know there say they just want to live their lives...}

What the Trees Saw

2000 years old -

the only true history

is within the rings,

is written in the bark...

History,
it is burning -
literally being burned.

Proclamation of Life

If I die...

I would want you to know that you are beautiful in the present tense.

If I die,

I would want you to know that you are fully capable of loving,

and full of the right to be loved.

If I die,

My spirit will continue, somewhere else -

whether place, dimension, time of the unknown -

From else I came, to where I’ll go.

If I die,

I would want you to know I was the daughter of many;

of a universe creating itself, unfolding unique into my skin,

with ingrained and changed adaptations through generations,

that birthed me, sang to me, fed me, and killed me.

If I die,

I want you to look in the mirror

and find the starlight shining ever so slightly yet brightly from

the two black spheres placed specifically to find light,

and shed the right amount of dark,

to balance the burning, and cope with the pitch.

If I die,

I live at the same time,

resurrected again like the day I was born:

life out of death out of life,

like a sunflower from the unfolding earth

made of sacrificed sunflowers...

I will rise again, like those before, and those to come.

If I die,

Your God sings

through me like the God of our ancestors,

like the God of our kin,

like our heart sings

to one stream of life craving life;

craving creativity, carrying on,

despite death in the face of a fight for life.

If I die...

A poet writing

through the rewriting of the universe,

trying new stanzas in the waves,

crescendos in the mountains,

the adagio of the textured burnt orange sunset,

the unmatched mediums of the rain forest,

the silent brush stroke of the hummingbird across air:

in living art, we are a part.

If I die...

I wanted you to know that you are beautiful in the present tense.

Ablaze

[for the many

moments

beneath the stars

with the best

friends

a girl could

ever

dream of having

:}]

A friend is,

a friend does,
a friend loves,

just because.

Any where,

any time,

without reason,

without rhyme.

With hearts ablaze

we dance and sing,

with war and peace

in unspoken remembering.

With wine and yeast

our stories are paired,

and our table is laced

with the moments we’ve shared.

With fire we test the night,

the minute hand and the bottle passing seconds every round -

laughter and tears resist rest, we fight -

but sloppy soldiers sleep on this solid ground.

To the day we wake

to ride as one and for all:

flying high over land and lakes

we soar together, free to fall.

It is a friend that says

“I'll scratch yours,”

and stays, passing the waves

of time, sound, and sun on rocky shores.

With hearts ablaze

we dance and sing,

with war and peace,

in unspoken remembering.

Without reason,

without rhyme,

any where,

any time.

A friend is,

a friend does,

a friend loves,

just because.

Love Is...

Love is impatient and unkind.

Love is jealous and boastful and proud and rude.

It demands its own way.

It is irritable, and it keeps all records of another's imperfections.

It does not call out injustice but rejoices whenever it dominates.

Love easily gives up, loses faith, is always pessimistic, and complains through every circumstance.

Religion will conquer the spirit, and love will never triumph over hate!