Writing

I am she as you are she as you are me and we are all together.
We are a community,
a family.
I am your sister and your daughter and your mother
and I love you.
You are my brother.
You are my boy.
My girl.
I will reach my arms out as wide as I can
And I will hug you and your hurt and your joy
As hard as I can and for as long as I can.
Until you shake me off, almost uncomfortably,
because it is hard to know what to do when you are
squeezed that forcefully.
I want you to know that you are beautiful.

Every once in a while we are hurt and we don't even know why exactly,
Just that it is a little bit harder to breathe and a little bit harder to think.
To process.
To figure things out.
To breathe.
To contain.
To behave.
To listen.
We forget to be nice.
And the thing is, we are so hurt that we don't even realize that all of these things are happening to us, within us.
It sure is hard sometimes.
Even if you lose control for a minute or two
(Or twenty)
You will get it back.
You always do.

Today I am bamboo.
Yesterday I was not.
Tomorrow, I'm not sure.
There isn't a tree in the world that grows as straight as bamboo.
Today I will not bend.
Blow on me, push on me, try to break me with your words.
Today I stay the same.
My roots run deep and thick
And underneath it all is God,
And me.
And God.
Seriously . . .
Go ahead and try to uproot me.

Just outside the city is another world. Yesterday I felt a little bit like Alice except that instead of falling down a rabbit hole (Are rabbit holes ever that big, I wonder?) I found myself climbing strategically placed logs and rocks up a steep mountainside. Though she never complained, I am sure my hiking companion was sick and tired of hearing me rant about the wonder of it all. For some reason, I forget that mere miles outside of our urban lot exists forests and lakes and gigantic trees. GIGANTIC trees.

Moon, moon, so blazing and hot.
Two words generally used to describe your nemesis-
Or do you consider the sun a cohort?
Some nights reduced to a sliver, and other nights-
like last week-
Full bodied and magnificent.
Your power was evident
in the way you made yourself known before it was even nighttime.
You drew people out of their houses
with no agenda in mind,
other than they wanted to see for themselves
What was causing the city to glow.
Your light made them want to kiss,

Today is Thursday and that is all there is to say. Instead of thinking of creative things to write about, I find myself continually stopping to look at the header of my website. My friend described the picture as heavenly, and I feel that is an apt assessment.

I was walking along Union Street last week when I passed a homeless man begging for change. You have probably seen him around, too, if you ever walk along Union. He is one of the few homeless in the area, and in the summer, his skin blisters into a mauvey-black. He is tall, lanky, and has a dreaded afro. I mean that his afro is mixed with dreads, and not that he has a hairstyle that I fear. One eye looks at you and one eye looks just behind you; I presume he was born this way. He does not appear to be crazy, nor does he appear to be dangerous in any way.

Things have been changing. The evidence is all around us, whether it be the economy, the warnings about global warming, shifts in our political empire, or anything else new or different requiring adaptation.
Fear, depression, stress, and anxiety are common emotional states plaguing us in our everyday life. With all of the bad news piling up, it is no wonder there is a hue of negativity threatening to shade our existence.

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