Soul cries as I soar. Once one has stepped out of the comfort zone, box, square, peg, whatever….it is like stepping off a drop off. Its scary when one is entering unchartered territory in the movement of living ones dreams. Dream in the sense of actual goals for which effort, heart, passion, and sweat and tears have been invested. During the time I was attending the Evergreen State College Tacoma campus the symbol that was in my school folder was a black and white news paper clipping of a Bald Eagle. The cry is no longer fear, sorrow, or uncertainty. This cry is victory cry.
Where is that one…Yes that one who will come. He will come and respectfully introduce himself, polite, elegant, classy, well kept, educated, and kind. Where is he. I ask not out of desperation…no…never that. I ask because one to many counterfeits have sought his royal position. Where is he. If a woman is the rib…where is the body…the souls match. Where is he. This is not a question that is why there is not need for question marks. It is a declaration to the atmosphere. He exist so where is he. I know in time all will come together. Time right now moves slow like the first trip to the moon. Let my voice ripple throughout the universe where is the lover to match my love so we can reproduce ourselves into beautiful offspring. Where Is He. My heart seeks the validation of your existence outside of my internal thoughts. Show yourself. I have become impatient after all these years. All good things take time to ripen so when love is ripe it will manifest. Until such time my heart will declare to the atmosphere Where Is He.
Life is a journey. There is no part of this journey one does not meet people along the way. These people are in all manner of conditions. What is painful is the hurts we experience at the hand of others. Its never mandatory that one must hurt another human being, animals, and our natural surrounding. My soul is weary to see the wars, acts of hatred, violent terrorist attacks, and just every day people taking out their own self hate, degradation, and/or frustration on the nearest vunerable person. It shouldn’t be so. Always the news is full to the brim with the next tradegy never consistent for while one family grieves in the headlines others are not acknowledged yet their cries go out into the universe. Can you hear the weary earth shake, shudder, and grown at the abuse at the hands of humanity. Can you feel it in the air, see it in the wind, and hear it in the thunder. The earth is crying because of all the blood pouring onto the earth. The earth is crying along with all those who are weary. Our planet is in a state of mourning.
My soul aches and makes the sound of an old rusty bridge. Weathered by the storms of life it aches but where is the medicine to cure. My soul aches at the pain of hatred, disdain, and deceitful acts like poison killing me slowly. Its seems when one is hated joy and life drain out from your bones, peace, and hope like water pour until there are barely any drops left. My soul aches with a tired that sleep cannot remedy at all. Do you know that type of tired. The type where even in slumber some how the psyche is inflicted with faces, situations, and fables without reason leaving one restless. My soul aches to awake at any given hour of the night to energy not my own seeking to steal the little light left in me leaving me lifeless, languishing, barely breathing, and they say misery loves company. Well misery beg your pardon, I am not miserable. My soul aches because it has been running on empty for some years now. There are those in life who are takers, critics, and no matter what joyful presence you bring within minutes your smile will be wiped from your face. My soul aches so I write, write, write, and allow my soul to heal itself.
The sky is falling….tears started like a slow trickle sliding down my face. I first used my sleeves to wipe here and there relieved to have sun glasses on to mask my sorrow, disappointment, bafflement at my state of being, and on public transport no one noticed or if so it was no bother to them. Suddenly the tears began streaming down my face like a stream faster then could be brushed away. Why feel is my question, why feel hurt, why feel disappointment, and quickly I text my bestie for a voice of reason before sorrow devoured me. I felt ashamed to be so heart broken even though it was not a wound self inflicted…strange to be angry with oneself for trusting, believing, or is it true that happily ever after is only in movies, children’s books, or in tragedy like Romeo and Juliet.