Thursday, January 7, 2016

She was free {poem}

I knew her before what she called
Love, was lost.

Before the paradigm shattered
and with it
all that seemed to matter to her.

Who was that girl?

A freedom being,
genius in essence;
uncompromisingly her.

She moved with light steps
on quicksand
sinking not an inch
in who and how to be
instead a tease for Temptation itself;
a Wanderess who followed not
and lead without calling.

She led those drawn to her
the way a patch of grass
begs one to lay and look at the stars
and be peaceful in knowing nothing.

She had no need to know—
the embodiment of trust
whose laugh cast doubt to the wind,
a heart impenetrable by fear.

She was not afraid of Love,
rather marvelled at its unfolding,
immediate in her response,
insatiable in her giving.

She was not concerned with time,
nor a victim to vicious control,
she was at ease learning—
curious yet wise,
a collector of lessons
and a creator of adventures.

She was fascinated by Life
and lived to feel and be,
to see and be seen.

She did not see it coming:
expectation stole
her from presence
and fear settled in, replacing love,
repressing. Taming.

That girl is me:

a woman fiercely piecing herself together,
remembering myself,
unstrangling her heart,
expanding in capacity for and relearning to trust in Love,



in full belief that while we lose ourselves
at times in Love,

we find it, truer still, within
—and are set free again.

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