Dear Insecurity: an Inner call-out

I see you over there

Trying to blend in

Whispering your lies

Rolling your eyes

AS IF you even belong here

May I ask..

Who actually invited you?

Oh.  

You have something to say?

Well, of course you do.

I'm sure you have...

An opinion for every detail

Two cents on every thought 

A doom with every gloom

A sour taste to linger on

I know you.

Yep, still talking to you.

You're so predictable 

Captain Obvious

Queen Cliché

So much so, 

That just maybe 

PERHAPS

It's time to look at you.

 

Because YOU

Ms. Cynical 

For all your talk,

and all your street-cred,

And your EVER-punctual ways,

You, my dear,

Let's be very clear

 

Have never 

a c t u a l l y 

known 

the likes of 

the depths of

the extent of

Nor even

the ABUNDANCE

That is called:

Me. 

 

Ah, dear Lover
Go slowly with me
Sip at the cup
Stroke its edges
Savor the sensations
The time to guzzle will cum

Dear Lover
I feel your eagerness
I see..
But I am a teapot
I need to warm
And then I will pour out
All over you

Patience, my Lover
Open me gently
And I will return those ounces of adoration
With oceans of worship

Kiss me tenderly
Touch me hungrily
Tease me torturously

Give me time
My Love

And when you do..
This Goddess will arise
In full bloom
To fuck you
To be penetrated by you
With every corner of my being
I will worship you..

My glorious God
Endlessly

Hope is like fruit

Hope is like fruit, ready to be plucked.

At times it is easy; ripe and within reach.
Glowing in the light
it almost begs for the taking.

Take.

On rare occasion hope lays at your feet.
Its only requirement?  A glance.
 "Notice me."
"Recover me."
"I am yours."

Just... take.

But more often than not,
hope involves some searching.
Some bending.  Some twisting.
A struggle with branches, a deep focus of the eye, a final stretch that challenges your limits...  grasp.  

Find hope.
And for goodness sake, when you do...
 Take.

For Nature healed,

Our hearts cry out.

 But dear one, did you forget?

You are Nature.

You are of the Mother.

Why not start there?

Dear Soul, let us start..

Breathing fresh air

and gazing into fires

Walking by the trees

 and whistling with the birds

Sleeping in natural rhythms

and whispering to the stars

Eating real food

And trusting the bitter medicine

Of the fields

And our hearts

Letting

The feral bits

and the spiritual bits

Marry 

When we make love

Reconnect

 To all that is real

And, heal.

Wild Man

The earth longs to feel your feet
Connected to its edges
Digging in
Pushing on
Pressing forward
Run wild Man

The trees ache for your company
Smell their scent
Embrace their arms
Hear their wisdom
Listen wild Man

The moon waits for your howl
Bask in its light
Rest in its glow
Observe its cycle
Tune in wild Man