Room of Tears

Oh, room. You are my tear room.
Walls, carpet, bed, windows
Dark, warm breeze flowing through
All made of these salty tears of my heart.
These tears that have made me
these last few weeks.
My form has vanished
to the waterfall of sharp hot tears.
Sometimes they are cooler and fall softly
Shades of green, tender shoots.
This room knows it all.
My tears, my laughter make this place.
These walls. This rug. This bed. The windows, open to the sky ever-changing.
Dear room, please continue to hold me and all my tears.

Reclaiming Self/ Spring Cleaning

As I sit alone in my room full of sunshine,
I love the world as myself.
I love this love- it is new
A choice to love myself for all that I am:
shy, honest, timid, deep, loud, trusting, sensitive, oblivious, daring, trusting, serious, slow...
I choose me. Other's perceptions matter a fraction to what I can carry in love and compassion, knowledge and quest.
It is good to be alone and I breathe a deep sigh of relief to feel this way again.

The Burden of a Heart

The burden of a heart
is love breaking and love making
is to open even when opening has betrayed you
is to care for things larger than yourself for no rational reason
is to learn the hard hard lesson over and over again of letting go

Prayer

Oh, God! Where has my calm gone?
I fall on my knees shouting
WHO AM I???
Who am I, my God??
Am I touch? Kiss? An ear?
Am I a pulpit? A letter? A word?
Am I a heart, broken and whole?
God, I lose my form sometimes and don't know who I am.
I feel lost with nothing to hold onto.
Who am I, my God? Who am I?

The door

The door shut.
tightly.
and I cried.
Falling to the ground,
I moved my fingers along the floor,
desperately wanting, seeking
any light, any sign
of space
between the edges of door and earth

none.
no air
no opening
just dark, solid wood.
I lean up against it,
touch it's smooth surface.
pound.
why???
"why are you shut so tightly?" I cry
A part of me was behind that door.
My love, my eyes, my lips and tongue and words and peace.
My body, touch, attention.
How can it suddenly be shut when it was open so wide
so much love.
that felt mutual.
And yet, this door is not mine.
it is his and I must touch it. face it. wear it and then lay it down.
He could not, no. He would not know me completely.
And I knew it, even as I felt he knew my deepest pieces.
hot
cool
blue
green
bright red
tears adorn the edges of this door shut so tightly.