past borders
passed walls
no more marching
around round down
can i tell you now
invading invited
the gates are open
creeping, swinging, wide
my eyes are open
and now i want to see
can you tell me now
climb the roof
scale the peak
find the opening
find the light
window to
a world beyond
will you let me see
sometimes i wander
wonder and wander
drag my feet
through dust of dead thought
i circle and circle
crop circles in the carpet
looking and looking
but not
finding and finding
paths entwine and intertwine
twine wind bind
hope is not in a circle
no beginning or end
no growth or change
no life
the circle does not
bend like the spiral
the circle is.
but today
i found and found
i found the circle
the circle
hope is in a circle
no beginning or end
constant and unchanging
reliable and true
but these circles
hope truth searching
cannot compare
to the circle
of your arms
toe to toe
you couldn’t know
how i feel
right now
shoulder to shoulder
it grows colder
the world and
universe between us
face to face
this empty space
is forever
with you
hand to hand
together we stand
but couldnt be
farther apart
eye to eye
no more could i
see you than
you see me
heart to heart
i cannot start
to say what
is on my mind
the days are
empty
when your words
do not fill
the space
between us,
and
my heart.
where are you now, where are you now.
do you ever think of me in the quiet, in the crowd.
how are you
anyone
how
are you
anyone
so close
so far
at once
from me
noone
how
are you
anyone
blind
and not let
me see
noone
how
are you
anyone
loving me
noone
how are
you
anyone
how are
you anyone
i
do not for get
gold sun spills
sliding as your arms
over me
love
do not for get
dark eyes sparkle
gilde under your diamonds
above me
you
do not for get
color lights twinkle
breathe with your heart
in me
now
do not for get
me
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language,
and next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
—T.S. Eliot
Then I did the simplest thing in the world.
I leaned down, and kissed him.
And the world cracked open.
- Agnes de Mille
May your coming year be filled with
magic and dreams and good madness.
I hope you read some fine books and
kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful,
and don’t forget to make some art —
write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can.
And I hope,
somewhere in the next year,
you surprise yourself.
-Neil Gaiman
things i will remember from 2012:
1.18.12 - the end
2.25.12 - mexico
3.7.12 - questioning
3.30.12 - stab
4.21.12 - dancing
5.2.12 - the end in the beginning
6.16.12 - reminder
7.13.12 - pickles
8.27.12 - falter
9.14.12 - empty
10.13.12 - the getty
11.17.12 - maybe..
12.7.12 - kimonos
12.14.12 - paper cranes
but i really do have a beautiful family.
they yell, they argue, they fight, they break, they renew, and we live.
it’s a crazy, insane circle but i wouldn’t know how to live without it.
i take for granted the i love yous and the im proud of yous and the thank yous and the smiles and the hugs and the genuine care and compassion and understanding. it all comes and goes and is given and taken too easily.
so i hold mine in and let theirs come to me.
but really i should let it go and give. because i know those who dont have what i do. and maybe i can’t give them my family. and i can’t give them the assurance that i have. i can’t give them the peace and hope and joy they want.
but maybe i can love them. just a little.
so if i can be their family, or even more than that, this christmas, then maybe that is the greatest gift i can give them. maybe that really is all i can give them that matters. and maybe that’s okay.
to love another person is to see the face of God.
well, i know in loving other people i find God in the small things and in them. i can only hope that they see some of Him reflected in me.
so in this peace there is this desire to love, and to bring joy
this desire, this thrill of hope.
and what a thrill it is.
the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
dancing again; it feels like coming home. like i never left.
some of them still recognize me.
it’s easy, comfortable even, to dance with these people ive barely met, to interact for three minutes and move on.
it’s harder to talk and dance at the same time, to be someone physically and mentally and expressively all at once.
i love those leads that make you feel so comfortable in yourself that it’s an unconscious response to just follow their movements. you feel graceful and elegant and in control the whole time, even though they’re doing the work.
but secretly (or maybe not so secretly) i love those leads who leave me breathless trying to follow—struggling and partially succeeding in anticipating their every move and staying on my toes to keep up. sometimes they lift you in the air, or dip you suddenly, or send you in an entirely new direction. it’s fast, fiery, exciting and never, ever, passive.
i can’t breathe for dancing.
and i love it.
i drove by your old house today. you know, the one that used to be seven blocks from mine? where we would go eat rice-a-roni and play dress-up after watching baseball games at the elementary school? where i had to get stitches that one fourth of july? where your brother tried to kiss me? where you taught me how to cartwheel?
do you remember?
it was your old house, i hope you remember. it was your old life. it was the old you. before you were who you are now.
i dont know you any more. not really.
i just remember the you that lived in that house on that street with the giant trees. the house with the front porch and the tree fort and the swing set, the house with the tiny kitchen and the squishy couch and reading rainbow on the television.
the house where we played together. where i sat with you when you held your new baby brother. when i held you when your mom was in the hospital. when i cried with you when your sister left. that time we hid from your shady neighbors because we were alone.
do you remember that you?
i see you sometimes, but i dont see you. i see the you that you used to be. sometimes i see both of you, and im still trying to figure out how that could be.
does that you remember that me?
i know ive changed too. im not that same girl that lived in your house some days, that played with you and ran with you and sat with you and cried with you and hurt with you. im different now. but i could still…. be. with you.
but do you remember me?
do you even know me?
do you even want to?
wind whistles
delicate icy swirls
dangling hair in eyes
fingers burning
stiff brittle sticks
clumsy on the shutter
capture foamy wisps of snow
taste crisp, crunching air
hear creased and worn melodies
drifting over the lighted trees
feel nothing
feel fiery sparks
feel electricity
feel heated energy
feel everything
feel you
over under around beside
within without behind before
beneath upon inside outside
side by side by side
intertwined
woven
feel warm
