safari: chapter 2

at that point they
had been on safari
long enough to realize
three things

1) safari never looks
like you think it will
2) that’s what makes
it an adventure
3) she loved this man

she loved him for
allowing her to construct
a treehouse of colors
and dreams and for
sharing in her vision
of madcap delight

she loved him for
the way the flames
of his fiery passionate Leo
danced upon the waves
of her moody fluid Cancer
melding into one another
in imperfect symmetry

she loved him for that time
he lost himself on the shores
of the City of Angels
then found God
in the faithful heart
of a dog named Sam
and a ride in an old van
driven by a nameless
man etched in kindness

she loved him for
having the courage
to take the journey
and his loyalty
that held steadfast
when the jungle got
dark and scary

but mostly for
no explicable reason
she just loved him
and he her

and so they kept on
hand in hand
ready to see what
new adventures
fall in the jungle
would hold

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blanket party sundays

I don’t live
here anymore

I have these
sleepy imprints
of stacks of books,
blanket party sundays
and an old, gray
doddering dog
following me around
with saucer eyes

at times I felt
the loneliest
I’d ever been,
and learned
to be lonely

at times I felt
the loveliest
I’ve ever been,
and learned
to be lovely

it was my
secret garden
beneath the bridge,
I found myself
within those walls,
laid claim to my full

and though time
has moved me
in other directions,
I still like to take
my faded roses
down off the shelf
and remember

I may not now,
but once upon a time
these beautiful
journeyed bones,
lived here

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Alice

She had this fear,
this fear of cages
and high walls
and small places,
because of that time
she grew too fast like Alice.

When Alice took
a turn down the dark
of the rabbit hole
and took the wrong bite
expanding exponentially,
busting through the walls
of the house she inhabited,
head popping through ceiling
to reach a new sky.

So she had
become Alice
busting through
the walls of her life,
head craning above
safe memory of ceiling,
staring down at the rubble
she once called home,
staring up at the hope
she now called new sky.

Sometimes she feared
that dizzy time
even as she loved it,
feared her ability to fall,
to become without notice.

And just when the fear
threatened to be a cage
of it’s own accord,
she’d remember the words
a friend spoke to her during
those dizzy days when she
voiced her fear of future cage.

Her friend gently tapped
her on the heart and said,
My friend you have
all the space you need
right here, now follow it.

She didn’t know if she’d
ever become Alice again,
if she’d find new rabbit holes
in which to lose herself,
or if she just carried a piece
of that curious girl inside
as reminder of where
she came.

But each time she began
to fear the cage
she took a deep breath,
clasped her heart and
gently reminded herself.

My friend you have
all the space you need
right here.

Now follow it.

alice

miracles

I have these ideas
and thoughts
inside of me
pacing my floors
rattling my cages
persistent in unease

some may call
them folly
fantastic hopes
imprudent dreams
built on shifting sands

but I call them
miracles
callings
bits and pieces
of my soul
rubbing restlessly
against glass walls
meant to be broken

trying to get out
to breathe free
trying to make a way
for themselves
to take shape
in the world

so I can be
who I’m meant
to be

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