Changes

Friends:

I know I have been posting a lot lately, but man oh man, have my emotions been at an all-time high. During this time of transition and while experiencing a dramatic shift of energy in my own life (and in the world in general; have you all noticed it, too?), I wanted to share some thoughts with all of you.

"Changes" - Miranda Martin

In short, I want to remind everyone that we are all worthy of good things: worthy of love, worthy of compassion, worthy of good fortune, etc… This does not change based on your abilities, your talents, etc. No matter where you are in life right now, no matter how good or how “bad” you think you might be at any and every little thing, you are worthy of love and happiness and all the great, surprising wonders this life has to offer. Period.

Moreover, I want to apologize if I’ve ever used my inherent biases as an excuse to treat any of you as if you’re *not* worthy of these good things and amazing gifts. I try to be kind to everyone I encounter, but the last year I know I have not been myself. I am just starting to feel like “Miranda” again, and it’s a good place to be; however, I cannot ignore that I was in a dark place for the larger part of this year, and that it may have affected my outward behavior as well as my inner thoughts, meditations, etc.

Like I said, I am in a much better place right now and I am feeling extremely fortunate, hopeful and gracious lately. I am trying my best to get back to the place where I am a source of light, rather than darkness, for all that I encounter. I am trying my best to shed light on as many as I can, and do as little harm as I’m able, in this precious life.

Finally, I’ve been thinking about what makes someone “important”, especially during the times in this last year in which I felt very, very small and insignificant. I think that I know, though: someone is important when they have made a positive impact, of any kind, on the world and the people and all the living beings around them. I hope that I’ve done that in some small capacity, and that even if no one ever remembers my name in the grand scheme of things, that I somehow will make this place better than it was before my time here. Of course it has always been my dream to be world-renowned somehow, to have a “household name”, so to speak (and I won’t relinquish that dream anytime soon), I am starting to realize that our importance and our worth has so little to do with us and our feelings, but rather with others and how we’ve made them feel. Have we made one another feel worthy and loved? That’s what life should be all about, after all: making one another feel loved, accepted, supported, and worthy of all. the. good. things. like I said above.

As I walk through the streets of Philadelphia this morning, all of this and more courses through my mind. As I watch teenage tourists run amok, smiling and laughing, and mothers with young children hold their toddlers’ hands as they head to school, I remember that life is so, so beautiful. I remember everything I’ve been reminiscing on above. I remember all this, and I hope I don’t soon forget. I hope I soak these feelings and these emotions in every day, every morning, because I’ve ignored them for far too long. 

Miranda Martin - "Changes"

I apologize for writing a novel, but so many of you don’t know how emotionally charged the past year has been for me. Now that I’m finally settling into Philadelphia as my “home”, starting a new job, and finally feeling like “myself” again, I just wanted to catch up with everyone. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to encourage you. I wanted to remind myself that I matter, and that everyone else does, too. I leave you with a lyric that’s been heavy on my mind, lately, and I hope someone who needs to see this today enjoys it as much as I do:

“We’re no better and no worse than the others /

We are all the same.”

Come as You Are

“Come as you are / 

As you were /

As I want you to be…”

– Nirvana, “Come as You Are”

 

In recent months, my mental health hasn’t been the first thing on my long list of “priority” items. My job, my house, my pets, my marriage: all of those things have come before me, and before reminding myself to check in every once in a while and ask myself, honestly, “are you alright?”

Now, it can be a good thing to put others before ourselves. I’ve found that, especially in my marriage, putting my partner before myself is extremely important. I’m lucky to say that my partner does the same for me, as well, but there were still too many other things getting in the way of my mental health that shouldn’t have been all this time.

Long story short: my first “career” pathway job has been great, but it’s taken up a very large part of my time and, therefore, my life. I’ve often let it come between myself and my mental health; checking my email obsessively (even on weekends), allowing the “small stuff” to stress me to the max, and so on. It hasn’t been good for my health, for one, and neither has losing my support system by moving to a new city and starting a new job (as well as getting married) all in the same year. Life has been crazy, and I stopped making time for Miranda in the midst of it all.

This, of course, resulted in me having a really, really terrible time this past weekend when it all came crashing down on me. I was depressed, distraught, and my husband and friends noticed that I just wasn’t myself. I needed help, and I had to reach out at some point and put a stop to all this. Essentially, this is where the “come as you are” part of this comes in to play: I needed to reach out and ask for help in some way, but I was too worried about what people would think about me to do so. This weekend, though, changed that.

I decided to reach out to old friends online, only having my husband here with me in this new, crazy city. My husband has been great, but even he encouraged me to let my old friends and former support system back home know that my depression had been flaring up again (with a vengeance), and that I hadn’t been as well lately as I’d lead everyone on to believe. A little worried and a bit embarrassed, I reached out with trepidation and basically said, “Friends, I need help. I’m not well right now and I want to be well again”.

Embarrassed and feeling a little defeated, I tucked my tail between my legs and headed home after an absolutely cruddy travel day at Philadelphia International Airport. To my surprise, my phone began to light up. Friends both old and new began to reach out, texting and calling and simply asking, “Are you okay?”

My heart swelled. I realized that, had I only been less embarrassed and less worried about reaching out and admitting that I needed help a little earlier, I would already be in a much better place mentally. My family and friends, and even some mere acquaintances, showed me nothing but love and support that afternoon and into the rest of the weekend. They really lifted my spirits and allowed me to vent out my emotions, but also simply reminded me that my existence was valid, that I wasn’t “crazy” for feeling what I’d been feeling, that I did matter, etc.

So, what does this all have to do with some random Nirvana lyric? Well, it’s simple: allow your friends, family, and even complete strangers to “come as (they) are”. So many of us are broken, or hurting, or even doing alright but had a really terrible-awful-no-good-very-bad-day, and could use a helping hand. The problem is, sometimes we’re ashamed to come to one another in all our brokenness and all our mess. We are afraid what someone might say about us, what someone might think about us, that we will look “weak”, etc. but I’m telling you, friends: reaching out is the best thing you can do when you are feeling overwhelmed.

So, reach out. Reach out to a stranger, a friend, a family member, a pastor, a mentor, a teacher, whoever you feel most comfortable with. Reach out to the person who will allow you to “come as you are”, with no judgment and with no questions asked.

Moreover, be that person for someone. Be the friend, the family member, the stranger, the mentor, etc. that allows people to come to them without judgement, without hesitation or trepidation, without fear… allow people to “come as (they) are” to you, when you’re in a good place. It might just mean the world to someone; you really never know how much of an impact lending a listening ear or a comforting word can help someone in need.

With all that being said, a special “thanks” goes out to my husband, my friends, and my family that continue to relentlessly support and show me love every single day. I love you all and I’m glad to know I have a strong, loving group of people to reach out to when I’m feeling just plain bad.

So, who are you going to reach out to this week? Who are you going to check in on? Who are you going to hug, to text, to call, etc? It might mean more than you’ll ever know.

 

Love, Miranda Martin – xx. 

 

How Opening My Mind (Just a Little) Changed My Life (a Whole Lot)

Hello, friends!

Recently, I polled my Instagram followers and found that most of them would like to see more travel and lifestyle content on my website. With that being said, I want to continue the series I started a while back about various people I meet along my life’s journey, but I also want to open up and take more of a look into my day-to-day experiences with my emotions, my environment, the places I visit (and what I discover there), and so on.

All that coming into consideration, I’ve decided to kick-off this new start-up to my (hopefully) more frequent blogging with a quick write-up about how opening my mind (just a little) changed my life (a whole lot).

Let’s start with the lyrics from a pretty well-known song:

“And to realize you’re really only very small /

And life goes on /

Within you, and without you.”

The Beatles, “Within You, Without You”

The first time I heard these lyrics it hit me like a ton of bricks. So much of what we’re taught in American culture and society is that, simply, if something is not serving us right now, immediately in the way we desire, then it’s simply not for us. Now, that can be helpful advice when someone is going through an abusive or otherwise painful situation that they need to be encouraged/empowered to get away from, but I found myself taking from this message the idea that everything revolved around me. 

I’d somehow, throughout the years of only living through my own mind’s eye, begun to believe that if something wasn’t meant for me, then it simply had nothing to do with me. This meant that I never found myself intensely pitted in helping others fight for what’s right, or helping others sort out their feelings, thoughts, and so on. I was a self-absorbed person in a world that taught exactly that: self-absorption and only seeing what we want to see.

One day, though, after the end of a decently long (and perhaps my first “real”) relationship, I realized that all the pain and confusion I was feeling didn’t have a lot to do with me, other than the fact that I was causing it by only feeling for myself. Do you follow me, here? Essentially, I had just ended a relationship and I was feeling down. I realized, though, that I was feeling down because it hit me that the entire time I’d been cultivating a relationship with another person, I’d actually only been looking to make myself feel loved, comforted, and so on. I’d had little regard for what I could do for others, and a whole lot of concern/regard for what had been done to me. That, I realized, was no way to live and, as I stated before, a large source of the great pain and confusion I’d been feeling for some time at that point.

At first, I felt incredibly guilty that I hadn’t noticed this sooner. I didn’t think I was that selfish, after all. But, maybe I was? I’d always thought I was a good person simply because I didn’t go out of my way to hurt people or harm others, but part of this transformation in thought required me to realize the passive actions (as  in, the inactions) I’d been taking all this time that were hurting others by an inactive, passive indifference for all the things going on in the world around me. For example, I rarely stopped to think about how my participation in the political system affected others and not just myself or my loved ones before this time. I also very rarely stopped to think about my impact on the earth, the ecosystem, and so on through my years of poor eating and creating more waste than I was attempting to clean up.

All of this hit me, all at once. It was an emotionally challenging time, for sure, to step back and realize that for some time I’d been doing more harm than good with little trepidation and consideration. Luckily, though, it’s never too late to change our perspective and try to make the world a better place; to try and see outside of ourselves and step outside of our comfort zones, meeting people where they need us to be and realizing that our actions are impactful beyond our wildest imagination (so we best step carefully).

So, what did I do with this information? For one, I started being a lot more active in the political process happening around me. I realized that my political preferences had to cater to all people, all human beings and all the earth, and not just myself and those who looked and/or believed the same as I did.

Then, I also stopped eating meat. I’m not saying that going veg is right for everyone, but at that time and place in my life going vegetarian was a nice step in the right direction of being a more conscious consumer in such a heavily consumeristic (and wasteful) nation.

I also started doing yoga, connecting and reaching out to others that I’d seen daily during my routine but hardly spoken to before, traveling further out of my comfort zone than I ever had before (including Europe, embracing their culture rather than immediately rejecting their ideas as “weird” or “foreign”), and so on. What am I getting at with all of this, though?

Essentially, one common theme runs through all of this: I was learning that my thoughts, feelings and actions impacted more than just myself. I was learning that, as I quoted above, I was “really only very small, and life goes on within (me) and without (me)”. The world is a huge place, and although I must practice self-care and have some level of concern for how I am feeling and how I deserve to be treated, it’s not all about me. Conversely, it’s about us all, all together, all the time.

Life is about love, and lifting our consciousness beyond the plane of our own thoughts and feelings. Have you ever looked outside of yourself? It’s not always an easy thing to do. Every day I still get bogged down in my own emotions and my own mind, but I just have to remind myself, those few, impactful words: “life goes on within you, and without you”.

So, what are some of your favorite mantras, meditations, practices, etc. to feel more connected to others and the world around you? Share your thoughts with me in the comments. I’d love to hear how you all feel about this and how, even in some small way, you’re trying to make the world a better place for all.

Peace,

– Miranda Woody-Martin, xx

 

 

People, Places and Things | The Kid in a Coffee Shop

After a bit of a hiatus, I promised I’d be back with the first part of my installment titled People, Places and Things. I was going to start this with perhaps one of my stories from my travels; the people I’ve met while traveling, etc. However, I met a child this week that merited being the first in this series. Everyone I meet blesses and touches my heart in some way, but this child really stood out to me. This kid really blessed me this week, and reminded me to enjoy the simple things in life (and to not take life too seriously, after all). Enjoy. – xx

June 21st, 2018: The Kid in a Coffee Shop

Let’s put it this way: I was having a really, really bad week. It was a Thursday afternoon and I was working from a coffee shop near my apartment. My car had just been hit for the second time in a month (with significant damage), and I had a mild concussion. I was feeling a bit down-and-out, to say the least.

As I typed away at one work-related project then another, I occasionally looked up from my laptop to scan the crowd of people around me. Mostly I saw people sipping coffee, reading books, talking on their cellphones: the usual. After a few moments, I noticed a young boy who had sat across the room from me. He was staring at me, as kids often do, and I thought nothing of it. Within moments, though, he had come to sit right across from me at my table-for-two. He pulled out the chair across from me, took a seat, and examined the lid of my laptop intently.

I was a little confused. I smiled at the boy, then realized that he was examining the old, nearly peeled-off stickers that had graced the lid of my laptop since my senior year of high school. I smiled, remembering that my laptop was decorated in stickers featuring The Joker, Pocahontas, and Boba Fett from Star Wars: every young kid’s dream, basically. I addressed the kid sitting across from me for the first time: “Ah, yeah, I have The Joker, see?”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied.

Pointing down, I remarked, “Well, I also have Pocahontas. See?”

He smiled, “Pocahontas? I thought it was Moana for a second.”

We both smiled.

As we continued to examine my stickers intently, the boy got up from his seat and came to stand next to me. He leaned down and put his head directly in front of my laptop screened. I chuckled, and he asked, “So, what’re ya’ doing?”

“Eh,” I started, “I’m just working”.

I continued to type. He didn’t say anything.

“I do marketing for car dealerships through this big agency,” I kept on, realizing this probably meant nothing to a barely seven-or-eight year old child. “It’s pretty boring stuff, but it’s a good job.”

The boy then nodded. “Well,” he said, “that’s just life.”

Taken aback by his response, I laughed out loud. Hearing such a wise remark come from the mouth of a little kid is always a fun surprise.

“You’re right!” I countered, still laughing a little, “that’s just life. It may be boring, but it’s a good job and I’m grateful for it.”

The boy smiled. He seemed a little embarrassed at this point, maybe because I’d laughed at his comment (even though I was laughing with him, not at him) and he walked away. He walked toward the line in which, I noticed then, his grandmother stood ordering coffee. He stayed there with her for a moment and I didn’t see him again for a few minutes.

After a few minutes passed, however, he came back to me with a treat in his hands. It was a coffee-free, vanilla frappuccino. He looked incredibly pleased with his treat, and he smiled, proudly remarking “Look what I got!”

I smiled at him. “That looks awesome!” I said, and he beamed with pride at his coffee-shop loot. Soon, his grandmother came over, grabbing him gently by the shoulders and remarking, “Oh, don’t bother her!” She then looked at me, saying “Ma’am, I’m so sorry if he interrupted your work”.

I laughed, “No, no!” I said, “he’s fine. He’s a great kid. We were talking about my stickers”.

She smiled, silently thanking me in some way for being kind to the child, I guess. “Well,” she said, “we have to go now. Say goodbye,” she told the boy. He smiled at me and said, “Well, bye.”

I smiled back at him and said, “Hey, have a good summer, bud.” He nodded, and off they went.

As they left the coffee shop, I couldn’t stop smiling and turning these little, simple moments over in my mind. For a child to be so friendly, so open, and so wise with his words made me feel incredibly warm. This kid, just by his simple gestures of kindness and interest in others, made me feel better about the terrible-no-good-very-bad week I’d been having thus far.

As I left the coffee shop later that afternoon, I couldn’t stop thinking about the child. I called my mom and told her the story: it was the cutest thing that had happened to me in a long time. I could hear my mom smiling through the phone: “Aw,” she said, “that must’ve made your day”. It did. It really did.

A child is such a wonderful, innocent, and yet somehow incredibly wise fixture in this life. I felt blessed and encouraged that this child had shown such kindness to me, a stranger. I can’t explain it other than that, but it made me feel better about the whole of humanity. In a way, the encounter gave me hope.

In other words: it’s the little things, friends.

End – xx. 

People, Places and Things Part One: Introduction

Friends,

As some of you know, I am working on a book of poetry titled People, Places and Things. Along with this book of poems, however, I want to publish a series of short stories (some being mere anecdotes) in a “blog” format on my website. These short stories and anecdotes, along with some interviews of people who’ve inspired and/or struck some kind of emotion in me, will accompany (and even explain) some of the poems found in my upcoming book.

That being said, I initially began this project a couple years ago after my first trip to Europe. In Europe I met so many wonderful people and, even though it’s cliche, my time spent traveling throughout the years has changed and influenced my perspective in every way. From the circle of poets I met while living in Brooklyn, New York, to the adoring father and his sweet, young daughter I met on the Seine River in Paris, I have met so many beautiful, interesting individuals that are note-worthy in more ways than one.

Therefor, I will chronicle the notes I’ve taken on those people, places, and things that I’ve found inspiring here. Let this post serve as an introduction (and a break from poetry, as well), and check back next week for my first post in this series.

Thank you and much love,

– Miranda Woody-Martin, xx

A Poem Inspired by Better Poets | “Teacher” by Miranda Woody-Martin

Hello, friends.

As I said on social media a few weeks ago (in fact, on Record Store Day) my biggest poetic inspiration lately has been Jim Morrison’s series of poems showcased in The Doors’ album An American Prayer. 

Recently, I wrote this poem. It’s heavily inspired by (and directly quotes) Morrison’s poem “Angels and Sailors”. “Angels and Sailors” is among my favorite poems in general (and is definitely my favorite Morrison piece).

It blows my mind that all of us find joy in such different things. For me, a large part of my joy in life is poetry. Words truly transcend the time and space in which they’re written and come alive on the page, on the stage, wherever. I could go on for days.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy this poem. Feel free to send some constructive feedback my way: it’s always appreciated and encouraged.

 

Much love,

– Miranda Woody-Martin, xx

 

Teacher

 

Green leaves

Green grass

Green girl

With father—

Unstable steps, unsure

Of this trembling world.

 

“She smokes so much,”

He quips,

“She’s ashes to ashes,”

Bright eyes

Blackened lungs

Summer heat on expectant tongues—

 

In the words of another poet:

“She’s trying to rise.”

 

Painted face

Painted plastic—

The fender—

Her old SUV

On a bender

She leaps from the front seat.

 

“Attention, attention,”

So easily divided,

“A word, my dear,”

So easily reminded

New York, summer nights,

LA, the high-life—

 

In the words of a better poet:

“It’s Catholic heaven.” 

 

Concrete jungle

Concrete cracks—

Working mothers,

Broken backs;

The price we pay

The deal we lay

 

Down— with the devil:

“To sleep, per chance, to dream.”

 

Green grass,

Green leaves—

A better poet than me.

Poem from Late April 2018 in Philadelphia PA | “An Ambulance Prayer”

Hello friends,

This week has been gorgeous. The sun has been out and shining brilliantly, and I’ve been really into writing lately. The other morning while getting ready for work I heard a siren blaze down the street. The sound reminded me of my first ambulance ride, roughly one year ago now, when I fainted during an outdoor event in the summer.

I thought about the conversations my husband and I had in regards to this afterward. We both found out that, as children, we whispered silent prayers every time we saw an ambulance go by. I’d never met someone else who had done that as a child (and still sometimes today). This poem comes from that sound, and that idea: “an ambulance prayer”.

 

Enjoy,

Miranda Woody-Martin, xx

 

An Ambulance Prayer

 

Stretcher bed, sweating head

To toe, waiting to tow me away;

“Breathe in, breathe out,

Breathe in, breathe—“

Words rolling, smoke signals,

Translucent clouds, another day.

 

Lifted, shifted, prodded, poked—

Head to toe, ‘til towed away;

“Is she awake, is she okay?

Is she awake, is she—“

Wondering whose whispered prayer

Saved my mortal life

 

As my consciousness trailed by.

 

 

A Love Poem from Philadelphia PA | “Entropy”

Hello, friends. Two posts in one weekend; I’m really on a roll, right? I wanted to share this poem with you all. It’s a love poem about my wonderful husband, Andrew. I truly do feel that he is my “equal and opposite” reaction in the universe.

That being said, I wrote this poem as a series of fragmented ideas and words that came to mind when I thought of him. I thought this poem was “unfinished”, but I think the fragmented nature of this poem reveals something about the inherent difficulty of putting emotions, thoughts, and feelings into words. After all, that’s the most difficult part of a poet’s job.

 

I hope you all enjoy this and enjoy the warm, beautiful weekend that’s filling Philadelphia with spring flowers and smiles.

Enjoy!

– Miranda Woody Martin, xx

 

Entropy

 

An equal yet opposite

Reaction in the universe—

 

Unspeakable beauty

Out of reach

Liquid heat

Paints dry cheeks;

 

What’s a clock

To a tree?

 

Unspeakable moments,

Light retreats:

 

“This is all there is,

All that ever was.”

Awake | Poems from the Spring Thaw

The weather has finally broken in Philly, it seems! Along with that has come a burst of creativity from myself and other artists in the area. I’m feeling really inspired lately. I’ve been tuning into the poetry of Jim Morrison and other 1960’s-era “beat” generation poets, and I’ve come up with a few little verses here and there that are works-in-progress. I wanted to share these poems (or, shells of what will become performance poems) with you all and get some feedback. Enjoy.

– Miranda Woody Martin, xx

Upcycling

I remember that was the first time

A man ever called me:

“Bitch.”

And I remember

What I wanted to say,

That: “if that’s how a man is portrayed,

I’d rather be a bitch than a man, any day.”

 

I took the word as a gift,

On my cheek like a kiss,

To his dismay;

His masculinity recoiled in spite.

 

 

Performance Piece

Voice, soul, laughter,

Soul, voice, laughter,

Laughter, voice, soul—

 

I wanna’ know

Where the Jim Morrisons go.

 

Energy flows, rows

Beats back “seamlessly

Into the past—“

 

I wanna’ know

Where Sylvia went

In her acetylene dreams

 

I wanna’ know

Raw energy, unbound

From gorgeous mortal coils

Spiral shells of someone

Else’s sediment, “Success!” —

 

I wanna’ know, when death moves low,

Where does that go?

 

Man, how I wanna’ know

Where the Jim Morrisons go—

(*Note: this poem is in its working stages and may be re-created in time)

Red Eye | Malibu to Paris

“I’ve never beat my wife,”

He smiles, sardonically—

I don’t appreciate the gesture

“A joke,”

He laughs, ironically—

I quiver beneath his fingers

I ask him

Could we ever be

Jim Morrison n’ Pam Courson,

Or like Kurt Cobain and Courtney?

Could we do

Smack, slap-happy in Malibu,

In pretentious Parisian salons,

In where-ever will do?

He responds—

Heroin death

Fresh on his breath—

“But you have such pretty arms.”

 

Machine to Man

What is man to God

Or machine to man?

Molten metal melts

Through thick veins,

Fiber optic,

Electronic,

“My heart beats for you.”

“Do you love me?”

“I can’t feel a thing.” 

 

Glimpse | A Question of Artists and Their Mortality

Friends,

Recently I’ve been in such a strange way. I’ve been reading a lot about long-gone artists that have influenced my poetry or my life in some way: Jim Morrison, Sylvia Plath, Alan Ginsberg, David Bowie, J.R.R Tolkien, etc.

I’ve been thinking about how I will never be able to tell any of these people, not even once, that their art changed my life in such a profound way. I will never be able to relay to them the idea that their art made a difference in my life, in my art, however insignificant that thought may be (considering these people inspired millions around the globe). That thought has induced sadness as well as wonder in me lately, and from it, I derived this poem. I really don’t have many other words to describe how I’ve been feeling lately other than what this poem attempts to verbalize, so there’s that.

I hope you all enjoy this, and I hope that in some way we can all acknowledge the impact that our existence, no matter how “small” we may seem, has on the lives of others.

Enjoy. – xx

Glimpse 

 

Now, sit
Screaming—
Drowning,
Enveloped in blackness

Now, sleep
Hotel rooms
Feel like home—
A transient passing

Ah, only to go
Where you’ve been;
To swim along the River Styx,
River of Time–
But Lover, I,
I never knew you.

Where do you go now?
Would you turn me away?
In my mortal coil,
In my hopeless form I,
I take any shape; I take flight
Infinite blue sky.

I am trying
On a new coat—
Newborn flesh
Comes to bloom.

It is a knife—
Not only death but
Precious life;
My flesh
Ragin’, bloomin’,
Fresh like daises,
Dances in the rain.

It is a knife—
As I’m speeding by
Time goes on;
Slips away
Further into distance,
Into dream—

Can we take five?

Where would you go
To slowly disappear?
To mark your own grave?
To hear your own voice?
Or see your own face
Just one moment more?

Though we never lived
In comparable spheres
Your colors tinge my soul;
So I slip back—
Mercurian fluidity
Wondering:

Can you can sense my admiration?

Ideas, ideals, poetics
Pure energy:
Immortal things,
They cannot leave thee.

Beat back, push hard;
Do you now know
Where you are
Swimming against the tides of time?

I would do anything to tell you
Once then, once now—
Can you hear through your euphoria?
Can you hear what souls speak
In all that infinite blue sky?
Could I still tell you goodbye?

Can time slow down for a while?
Can I let you know
You’re so timeless, so admired,
They deface your grave?
Your final resting place? —
Are you even there?

Did you fly away?

Did you break time’s waves
Waves of blackness,
Waves of breaths,
Waves of light and waves of death and
Waves of weighted down mistakes?
Tell me—do River Time’s waves ever break?

Glimpsing silver screens;
A moment, a split second
Held breaths
Words never said—
Did you know
When you left the earth?

Were you afraid to dance with death?

Or did you
Run, screaming,
Howling into blackness
And embrace—

Did you run,
Screaming, howling,
Into death or kiss her,
And slowly drift away?

Do you still swim
Great River Time
Still, to this very day?
I utter, then, the words:

You never left me.