I wrote a poem again last night. It had been a while.
I described it as “another child birthed under the covers of a 2 am mind”. Now I see why- it really did bring me life.
Somehow helped me to again return to writing in that beautiful kind of way, the kind that sets the universe of words inside into renewed motion and leaves me with nothing to do but capture them as they swiftly float by.
Not capture as in take captive, but as in allowing them to captivate me, letting me stare them down so intently we slow down time, just long enough for me to take a mental picture. To commemorate and then set free.
Because they are really not mine to own, the words. They will never subject as slaves to selfish purposes but are guests trusting me with their presence. All I can do is try my very best to host them.
Again, not imprison but welcome warmly with open arms, fully aware I have no way of knowing what they will say or what my home will look like when we part. Knowing is a privilege reserved for the ones who have let go of owning understanding, and let in who stood knocking on their doorstep.
I didn’t plan any of this. It’s almost scary, how little you know what will escape your own lips before it is out. How happily you float in oblivion before you allow the dam to crack just enough for the river to flow through.
Because when you do- safety is history.
When you do, there is no way of knowing where the stream will take you.
It doesn’t enter packaged with a detailed description stating uses, ingredients and side effects- no- it rushes in, keeping afloat only one question- are you along for the ride?
Will you let go of control and allow me to drown your fear of the lack of it?
Will you put on trust and let me carry you?
Sounds like three- I know.
But it’s one; one question followed by two echos.
Like a lively shout on a summer night, carried by the lake and the last shades of light, soon answered by the far away, a return from the other side.
Over and over, the same, yet each time sounding like another.
It’s a three in one deal, this resounding plea to leave steady ground beneath my feet- just like the elements of water. Sometimes jumped into, sometimes plowed through and other times keeping alive.
The words flowing through,
just as free, just as captivating, just as loud.
Break, oh dam.
Break me down.
River, I give you permission to force your way through every crack in my wall to the point of crushing and to bring every brick with you when you depart.
I want to live unhindered.
Yes. That’s the answer to your three part- question. A resounding, yet trembling yes.
Let it echo and travel to all the hidden places.
Yes to it all.
I don’t need the knowing- only that you are good.
Yes to an open book with surprise filling every space between two covers.
Yes to free at heart, to love as the spine of it all and yes to unravelling.
Yes to another step,
to life as an adventure,
and wild like water.