Letter to you,
Lost to know,
That you and I both feel this way sometimes.
You and me, with our massive smiles
And our generosity and laugh
With our love and hope and harmony.
Both can hit so low to the bottom of bottom.
And consider ways, this way or that.
To escape it.
If we feel like we’re not walking forward on it, If we feel still and wordless,
Soundless. Then we are haunted with What the point is. Right?
Not moving forward- just taking up space??
I’m learning to see the brightest ones for what that means: The balance inside.
My dancing teacher; She smiles so so much; Her whole being, Is a wild bounding smile. My face muscles hurt the most after the dancing, From the smiling, With her. And it left me pondering, Gees, I wonder how hard she hits when she hits the bottom. Cause she’s so bright on top. Is that wrong to wonder that? does every bright one have the clouds below?
But maybe that’s the point,
If you can stay afloat in your everything
To try to find some balance
With hope. With thought. With joy. And sorrow,
I don’t want to be remembered when I’m dead.
I want to be remembered when I’m alive.
I want you to think of me and smile
And then pick up a phone and catch up.
If I’m not moving forward- I’m not taking up space- I’m holding this space.
And I am completely and undoubtably worthy of that.
That’s not ego. or blind righteousness. I am allowed to say. That I am worthy. Of that. of this. of my space.
That’s the point of me babe.
That’s what I am.
Me and my tissue box on top of my fridge
Is your harbour in a storm.
Is your lake in a summer night
Is your midnight wee on a beach
Is your Ace Ventura double play.
And you are mine.
All of my metaphors are you.
We will fall in love
Again and again,
And feel different levels of that love returned.
The world is full of uneven balance of crush, love, lust, and downright lovesick blues.
But you, My sweet,
Can expect a circular current of stunning adoration to and from, all that is me,
Until all the stars are gone.
Until Valparaiso is washed to the sea.
We have so much music to make.
And I don’t mean in the future, one day blah blah blah…
Or past memories of days gone by.
I mean right now- I crave your voice- Harmonising with me – through esp. daily.
We can just feel and hold and breathe and be worthy of just our own little frame.
Taking up this much space on planet earth.
Don’t ever doubt your perfect worth.
The shine of your soul. The sweet of your being. Your eyes can haze over with the intensity and nothingness of it all, But your heart can’t lose sight of the calmest buzz that is