1.02.2013

Not a Poem Transmission: I Want You To Know This

Dearest Pudding,

New Years eve came and went
with its wet confetti and plastic toys.
The hangover has subsided.
The Ash trays still full and stinky.
The tree crispifying in the corner.
Bits of glitter still clinging to the cat and tiara sleeping under the sofa.

This is where the work begins.

For some of us, the year went by in a disappointing flash.
For others it was full of excitement worth writing home about to Mom.
For some it came with a tidal wave of new pains.

And that's okay.

While on the way back from the studio, looking at the wet yellow windows of our winter city I wanted so badly to write to you--

It might appear to be at first glance, but this isn't a poem.
There's no particular rhythm or punchline.
I just want you to know this.

I wanted to tell you that healing is Natural.
Healing is a real time and a real place.
And you can do it.

That you are not broken if you feel alone.
It's okay to be lonely.

That not only can you be the architect of whatever shimmering dream you please,
you can release anything you please.
Relief is okay.

That if you need help letting go, that's perfect--
Help is okay too.

And here, in our cozy electronic fort where we get together to talk--
we can just be still for a minute,
and we can let go of whatever you want together.

We don't have to talk if you don't want to.
We can telepathically send each other waves of rainbow to where it hurts.

You can put your kitten fingers on these dry pine needles.
And think of everything you Wish to leave you.


 Don't be shy, no one will see you.
And I won't tell a soul.
Say it out loud if you want. You can let it go.

 Then I'll light the little branches on fire--
and the smoke will carry this away from you as the quietest pillow.

 Wafting, wandering
Off to some place where things make more sense.
To a place where it can be recycled,
to become a new tree, or diamond or eyelash.
A place that eases the ache and helps you sleep.


And now that there is a space--
now that we are free of it,
the wick in your heart will remember it's name.
And so will mine.

Then we'll send the same wishes to everyone else in our tribe--
out of warm skins, out of our kitchens and bedrooms like glowing moon jellies swish-swishing over the city,

so we can all see each other at once

and remember we are Loved.

 










*moon jelly kisses*











2 comments:

The Happy Whisk said...

Glitter still on the cat? That's one party cat, I'll say.

Anonymous said...

I don't know what "moon jelly kisses" are, but I choose to think of it as a special lipstick print on my cheek that I leave until it has worked its magic and I can remove it with a smile on my face and the resolve to start anew.

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