Poetry is woven into the warp and weft of this creation. The balance of sunrise and sunset, the pace of the tides, the trill of the birds and the rustle of the winds in the trees.
On it goes…everything in harmony, or dissonance yet in time and rhythm. Let my first written post be a poem I wrote called The Vines. It is a poem about humans, really…about anyone who wants to become…more! Better! Higher!
They are tortured, the best ones…
Planted in skeins of shitty shallow soil.
Plopped into rocky ruins of ancient volcanic thrashing
They will not drink vinegar, ruined wine
But instead they dig
Roots compelled, FORCED past rocky reams
and veinous minerally walls.
The Vinedresser is compelled…not by cries
but by VISION and the future
of the wine to come
from the best ones, the tortured ones
the blessed ones
Forced to grow and be fruitful.
On that Day the vintage will be poured
and in humble amazement the vines will
ask why…why so blessed, why so rich
why so wet and every thirst quenched,
Brrr…I am a lil skert, starting this blog. It is the very first baby step towards being out as who I really am, the me that I was born to…I am frightened, and yet so excited all at once. I love this picture, because it shows how I have always been…gazing out, yearning, standing off to the side, there but not there…and I like that there are 3 women down in the shelter. They represent my core support…bless you ladies who love me with your hearts!
And I love that we are all surfers in this pic…waves are toys and funland rides to surfers, skimming along on stormy waters and dancing.
I have no idea where I will be in 3 months, in a year. I have no idea who will be in my life besides the ones who are with me, and who will be out of my life.
May God give me grace to welcome all in, and never shut any out, and then I can have peace, knowing that I have lived in integrity and shalom, and that I am literally not responsible for the choices of others.
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