Breaking in Half

I am breaking in half listening to the situation.
Why go against what you know is true for you
Just because some fearful voice doesn't shut up.
Old conventions win the race and tug you across the finish line.
You look back at the old life with a sense of loss.
The knowing this is all a manipulation you have fallen for is loud
Though not loud enough for you to take as important.
Years later the web has been weaved around you even tighter
Not yet at a point of suffocation and the only path you see is moving you there

Deceptions are beautifully crafted,
Dressed in wedding dresses and luxury cars.
The greatest desire is to get yours.
Some minds and bodies may incur a loss of their dreams feeding you,
As they have fallen for your lies
Which you, yourself, believed were truth,
Because you lack the necessary awareness
About yourself and your mechanism,
And they don't want to see you as you are,
Because they, too, are in need of something
That is unclear to them.

And so the energies intertwine and spiral down
Crawling, like a turtle, into darkness
Created by you.

And the next generation learns from this behavior
Repeating the cycle
Endlessly.

If I May

I want to surrender, I really do

I want to flow like the rivers do

I am so afraid to take the fall

I have forgotten to run you first crawl

I want to walk in peace and quiet

I want to think in joy and very loud

I want to feel like fireworks do

I want to give like I have nothing to lose

 

Please lend me strength to melt away

Please take my hand and show the way

Please sit me down in your compassion

Please take these chains, they are out of fashion

I long to see the best of me

I long to be the gift to thee

I long to glow like northern light

I long to live with open arms

I do not know what holds me back

I do not know the mechanics of life

I do not know the secret code

I just ask for help and keep up the hope

To Express

Prose or poetry? When the words are begging to be written down, which format is better fit to express the abstract and not so easily labeled except to use a metaphor or  multiple metaphors to make it a bit more tangible and graspable and palatable and relatable.

How to describe the experience of something greater than yourself appearing at your doorstep at the light of a lamp or the sound of a song. What words, metaphors, or similes can name the grandness and the mystery of the taste of the world beyond yours.

A bowing down to the great unknown in gratitude, disbelief, appreciation, and need, because the experience of it is bigger than any word in the dictionary can name, any style of writing can capture. All that is left to do is to keep this abstract experience as that, a personal experience filled with awe and wonder with a touch of unworthiness. How has this human been graced with such.... 

The need to disappear is strong. In its disappearance, a carefully planted seed can spread its roots and grow big, tall, and strong. The metaphor. I'll take it.

A Teacher's Mentality

He used to tell me all his friends were teachers and I was no exception. He used to tell me things that didn't make sense. Until they did. I have no patience, I used to think. I have no skill, I used to worry. I cannot see beyond the current, I used to imagine.

He used to tell me I, too, was a teacher. He used to teach me, again and again, day in and day out, that a teacher is nothing more than a student. The moment you think you're a teacher, you no longer are, he used to say.

He used to warn me that being a teacher is a frustrating job. He used to lament that students who want to know are few and far between. He used to tell me many things that made no sense to me. Until they did.

A teacher, I may not be, despite playing the role. A student of the human experience I just might be, despite my own blindness and prejudice. But the art of embracing all is my subject of study. And maybe one day, I just might have a chance to communicate something of value.

He used to teach me everyday in every way. He used to sit down with me and speak. He questioned lovingly and carefully. He used to read many things and learn many topics. He was a perpetual student, because he knew the depth of any subject was infinite.

He was my teacher and his teachings are still with me. And when I sit in front of the class, his words are in me. This must make me a student, or a humble servant of the people.