Making the most of these moments, most of the time.
she walks into the night
wraps the darkness around herself like a blanket
lifts her head to the sky and speaks with the stars
shuts her eyes and listens to the wings of the owl
she smells the dew settling into the earth
she feels the coyotes cry in her soul
connected with the night
she breathes deeply and fills her lungs with peace
-a moth to no flame
when i die
spread my ashes
everywhere i used to love
sprinkle me in the river
so i can forever feel the cool water rushing over me
the smooth rocks beneath me
sprinkle me on the peak of the mountain
so i can forever gaze at the sights i’ve always admired
riding the breeze into the valley below
distribute me throughout the forest
so i can rest on it’s mossy floor
forever sheltered by the outstretched arms of the cedars
scatter me on the shores of the ocean
so i can forever smell the salty wind
my body can travel to the places i’ve never been before
but more importantly
i want to share these places with you
again
before i am completely gone
i understand it now
why the salmon pours all of her life energy to swim upstream
to show her birth place to her offspring
before her body is consumed by the earth
she steps out
into the void
unsure
where her footsteps
will fall
as she steps
into the darkness
each step
illuminates the ground before her
a path paved in “me toos”
by women
who bravely stepped out before her
preparing the way
at great cost to themselves
creating the path so others could follow
women everywhere
young and old
bear witness
gathering the courage to tell their stories
-it wasn’t in vain
the wind
always present
whispering through the trees
a cool breeze on a warm day
a mighty force
willfully contained
unnoticed
taken for granted
as she gently rearranges the clouds
slowly rolls in the weather
but when she calls upon the seas
and the mighty waves come crashing down
when she calls upon the earth
and she uproots the trees
when she calls upon the skies
and lets forth a furious storm
only then does the earth begin to take notice
-like we’ve never seen
i feel sometimes like my body and i are two separate beings
often in disagreement with one another
pain roots itself so deeply
invades my body
stretches out and overtakes my skeleton
it becomes so familiar
some days i’m not sure where it stops and i begin
i want to be social and stay up late
but my body is exhausted for seemingly no reason
it needs me to rest
i want to be young and carefree
but my body screams that it cannot handle the strain
it begs me to slow down
i want to be independent
but my body humbles me by setting unreasonable limitations
it pleads with me to ask for help
i want to cross the finish line
but my body retaliates by resenting me for days
it implores me to never do it again
-meeting hostility in the shape of my own body
because i’ll never be a person of colour
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ll likely never need to flee my home country
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ll likely never know the worries of homelessness
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because the legitimacy of my relationships have never been questioned
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ll likely never question my sexual identity
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ve never yet experienced mental illness
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ve yet to work two jobs only to fall below the poverty line
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ve never suffered abuse at the hands of someone i trusted
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
because i’ll likely never have to wear their shoes or walk their path
i’ll listen and trust them to tell their stories
so i can begin to imagine what their path looks like
and the journey they are on
-acknowledging my limited perspective
you don’t see things in the wild trying to hide their age
longing to be something they aren’t
age means something in the wild
it is strength
it is adaptability
it is life itself
you can read a tree
it’s marks, missing branches, torn bark all tell a story
all the wisdom they have gathered, standing, observing
they’ve seen trees born, and grow and have seen many fall
at 28 i first noticed the lines on my face
horrified and mesmerized all at once
my face telling the things i’ve seen, before i open my mouth
all the smiles i’ve smiled
all the tears i’ve cried
all the sunsets i’ve squinted through
all of the stories i’ve emphatically told
all of the summers i’ve enjoyed in the warmth of the sun
maybe one day we can learn to appreciate our age
as the trees do
gracefully growing and extending our roots
with any luck i’ll be graced with more, deeper, lines
more life
more tears
more sunsets
more summers
and many, many more stories