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my house 

the big dipper

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100 theme challenge

I found an old document called 100 themes challenge, I only did a few of them but I'm going to reapply myself to it and try and post them all here, I'll likely intersperse other poetry but I'm going to really try to finish the 100 theme challenge.

Perception

would you cease to be awed by the ocean by a drop of it?
or gaze at the night sky with less wonderment because of a single star?
you would not fault a river by a single bend,
nor the wind and rain for the shape of each stone.
we have such a fractured perception of ourselves,
we see individual parts and pieces,
and we hang our worth on the smallest curve or line.
we weigh, we measure, and far too often we find ourselves wanting
but look into the mirror,
and see instead how each line falls together,
how each piece you perceive flows in to the next,
constructing a singular and unique creation.
a building is not judged by a single brick,
nor a tree by only one leaf.
so tell me then why you would judge yourself by such a small fraction of the whole?

Five years

it seems like only yesterday
that I pressed my ears
to the full rounded moon of her belly
listening to you as you grew inside
my little hands pressed to it to feel each kick
as I sang to you and told you stories

it seems like only moments ago
that I crawled into the hospital bed with her
to hold you in my arms
marveling at the tiny miracle of you
as I let you know that you were safe
because your big sister was here

it seems like I only turned away for a second
and you are laughing and running long hair flying
and I am learning
that I cannot always protect you
they say it's not my job
but every time I look at you I remember

it seems as though I've just blinked
you've grown so fast and suddenly five years
is not the gaping chasm it once was
it is barely a crack in the sidewalk
one you are quickly stepping across
and I can only marvel at how quickly it all went by

Walk

I walk along the frosted edge of morning
as the sun stretches it's long arms into the early morning
inky blue pushed slowly back like a warm blanket
in that perfect stillness before  
even the air seems still as it muffles my foot steps
and the early winter chill leaves frostbite kisses on my cheeks
and makes shapes of my clouded breath
here along the frosted edge of morning

I'm fine (old poem)

she was too busy, trying to jam that misshapen piece into the empty space in her heart,
where it clearly didn't fit,
that she didn't realize she'd torn the empty space up,
mangled it and made it worse than before.
She didn't realize, until it was to late
and when she saw the damage that had been done
she cried out in frustration throwing it towards the wall,
realizing as she did it that it was the wrong choice;

she frantically reached for it as it sailed through the air
almost grasping hold of it before it flew beyond her reach and smashed against the wall
shattering into even more pieces then before,
she cried out, searching frantically,
trying to collect up all the pieces.

while the tears that had long ago dried up still tried to push their way out of her eyes,
and that's when she found it,
broken and barely recognizable,
a pile of lost loves, forgotten promises,
and dreams that had long ago been pushed to the side to make way for the needs of others.

she slumped to floor sitting on her knees staring at it.
and finally,
the tears came.

they came in a torrent of pent of fear, sadness, and frustration,
flowing so fast and in such amounts that soon she was sitting in a shallow pool,
the bits of her heart glowing a dull red
just underneath the water's surface.

she reached forward,
the tears now only trickling from her eyes,
and scooped the pieces into her hands,
she held them close to her chest her eyes closed and head
tilted just barely to the side
as though she were listening to some far away music only she could hear.

she swayed back and forth,
ever so slightly stirring the water around her,
when suddenly a hand came to rest on her shoulder.
startling her from her trance she looked up and saw gentle eyes concerned and questioning,
she quickly moved the pieces from her hand to her pocket
hiding them from the eyes that seemed to be trying to see through her,

and with a weak smile plastered on her face
she whispered to the unasked question in those eyes,
"I'm ok, I promise".
the eyes stared for only a second more.
then the hand lifted the eyes moved from her face to somewhere else and soon were gone.
she kept her hand in her pocket feeling the broken pieces sift through her fingers,

the empty place in her chest,
where the pieces would have gone if they were the right shape,
aching as she stared after those concerned eyes and gentle hand,
with a longing she wouldn't admit to herself,
then she closed her eyes as new tears began to form,
and with the weak smile dropping away, she whispered
"not really, not at all"

The Choice

something so small,
the slightest change
I felt it growing there,
and I think maybe you did too
in the spaces between breaths
it wanted to grow
but I knew, no matter how much it ached, it couldn't,
knew how it would change
shift the terrain we had begun to build on
so I plucked it from it's hiding place
and hid it on my highest shelf
to gather dust and fade
the dull ache it left behind
soothed by every smile you gave

Three weeks in..

three weeks into school and life is settling into a pretty standard rhythm, there's honestly been no new drama, which might have something to do with the fact that I haven't been at school much given my unusual schedule and the fact that schools only just started but still it's nice, I'm walking about half a mile (maybe?) everyday and while I'm feeling sore I'm glad for the exercise. Anyways just wanted to update this so ttfn

food for thought

every atom in your body came from a star that exploded, you are stardust, a complex cosmic legacy personified and given the capacity to contemplate it's origin and the origins of the very universe that birthed it.
the potential for greatness is therefore never out of your grasp, it is encoded your very DNA