I cling to You

Through shifting winds and raging storms

Each year, the birds catch the invisible thread of their path

And migrate into a new season;

Through wavering limits of salinity and temperature

All the fish in the sea find the hidden, powerful currents

And wash away in them;

In the night under the dusky canopies of forests around the world,

Each tiny creeping thing knows the exact pitch and time signature of its song,

And follows the movements of a maestro only they know;

And I, blown about by tempests and adrift in merciless seas and lost in the pathless shadows under trees,

I cling to You.

Like a castaway clinging to chains of a ship, like a gull caught up in the hurricane wind, like a child hiding in the warm smell of her father’s lapels, I cling to You, I cling to You, I cling to You.

Every lovely and terrible and heartclenching thing on this Earth will pass away, and still,

I cling to You, I cling to You, I cling to You.

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i’m not here

an uninvited guest

treads heavy
in my house
what it calls itself
i do not know
but i call it
Hurt
it has stolen
all the words
from the books
and painted gray
the pictures
on my walls
it sets hornets loose
inside my thoughts
and pinches hard
the pauses
between words
all this it does
and whispers,
“I’m not here,
I’m not here”

the hungry place

in the hungry place
a noise reverberates
in darkness

between the walls
a voice cries out
then hushes itself
listening

it howls
into spaces
no other voice trembles
and imagines the echoes
are a friend

there is a friend
that sticks closer than a brother
and sometimes I think
that friend is just the echo
of my sing-song voice
in the hungry place

This is the day…

This is the day, which down the void abysm
At the Earth-born’s spell yawns for Heaven’s despotism,
And Conquest is dragged captive through the deep:
Love, from its awful throne of patient power
In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour
Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep,
And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs
And folds over the world its healing wings.

Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance,
These are the seals of that most firm assurance
Which bars the pit over Destruction’s strength;
And if, with infirm hand, Eternity,
Mother of many acts and hours, should free
The serpent that would clasp her with his length;
These are the spells by which to reassume
An empire o’er the disentangled doom.

To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;
To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;
To defy Power, which seems omnipotent;
To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates
From its own wreck the thing it contemplates;
Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent;
This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be
Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;
This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Unbound, Act IV

human

A fool
Makes his humanity an excuse
For animal behavior,
For base appetites.
“Human”–
Blood and bone
Spun into a reflection
Of the Divine–
A thought, a voice
Echoing back
The word of our Creator.
Don’t dare say “I’m only human”
And act the part of a Pig, a Rat, a Dog, a Snake…
Say rather “I am less than human.”
Our fragile bodies and willful souls
Make our kind unique–
A beauty, a fire, a force.
More powerful than angels,
More terrible than demons,
Human.
Nothing less.

dear depression

Dear Depression,

If we are to get along together as roommates, there must be rules in place. First, so long as we abide in this glass house, we shall not cast stones. Second, don’t interrupt me or finish my sentences–it pisses me off. In return, I won’t talk over you, but allow you to speak your piece. Thirdly, let us do our best to stay out one another’s way–I won’t hinder your comings and goings so long as you don’t hinder mine. Fourthly, mind your own fucking business. I don’t need your opinion on every goddamn thing I say and do. And finally, feel free to move out any time. I don’t like you that much.

Very sincerely,

Me