What is blooming in my Life?

As I sit down to write this, so many things run through my head. But the simplest and yet deepest answer is me.
I am blooming. My true self is finally peeking through. Before trauma, I was me. Me before the abuse. Me before I realized I wasn’t loved by the people I loved. I before the hurt. Me before the pain. Me before depression. Me before anxiety. It’s like my soul has gone home. I am secure in ways I never thought possible. The impostor syndrome is not as bad. I have more control over the things that I can control. I have locked in with my purpose. And I am coming out of the cocoon I have been hiding in for so long. Yes, I still have troubles, but the peace that is in my soul with the ebb and flow of life’s river is something I simply can’t fully explain. I am filled with gratitude, and I honor the Most High to the fullest because I realize now. That every death I experienced to get to this point, every pain, every ache, every heartbreak, was so worth it.
I look forward to the joys and pains of life because I am so much stronger than ever. Each experience allows me to go deeper within myself so I can then minister to people and help them heal. I don’t have to hide who I am or feel intimidated, and I am open to receiving the goodness of life.
I was so broken last year, and I suffered in silence.
I retreated into my old mindset for my final death. So, I guess I am blossoming into the person I was always afraid to be. But now I am not afraid. And I know that I am sacred and I understand how to honor all that I am without shrinking myself. So here is a poem I wrote that is the best way I can describe what is growing in my life…

Is she a phoenix?
Is she a flower?
Or is she a butterfly?
Or maybe she’s a bird?

Maybe she’s rain.
I know for sure
She reincarnates
Time and time again.
She evolves.

Maybe she is a volcano
Active, ready to erupt.
Destruction and rebirth
As her lava flows
Pruning and purifying
The Earth.

Maybe she’s
just a force of nature
Powerful but delicate
As a flower

She sprouts, grows
and blooms…
Maybe she is exactly
Who she knew she was
All along…

I love you. I hope your life is blossoming in ways. As unimaginable as I am!

This set of mountains
moves west, and wester still
until they move north and south
following the six directions.
Their crags speak to the sky
of the events below,
all in the rocky languages
poorly understood by those bound to two feet.
Caressing the earth in moccasins,
he, or was it she
looks about in the craggy heights
for a handhold
in the pegmatite faces of canyons
the reds and blacks in the most deeps,
those purples of sheerness
keeping the less adventurous at bay.
Coming down to the valley
below the gorges of distance barely seen
she, or was it he, knows
that off in the yonder reaches
there might just be a place in that bigness,
to drive their thoughts to.
An abandoned two story ranch house
sits the still, its invisible solitude
quiet now of children’s voices.
The hand split shingles on the roof
still keep the weather out
both the harsh winter snows and warm summer rains
don’t touch the singularity of a dry interior
as if waiting for the family to return
from where they disappeared to, so long ago.
That ranch house perched on the mountain side
has the cook house and porch attached
where a descendant has placed new tin
over it. Then left it again.
And there, under that
is the place where the questions
may have gotten answered,
and maybe not,
perhaps just having raised those inquiries
into the meanings of the lives lived
under the eaves.

I love books but the Only One Thing
Is the Love story of God, that to me brings:
Peace and Joy, Contentment to the full-
Like carrying a baby on a baby stroll.

That’s One Thing, that is more than a thing
Always blows my mind, with exciting dreams.
Though not regular dreams as when one sleeps,
Their the dreams of imagination-
That eternal relations keep.

This library daily I seem to walk into
Holding life barely by the Word of Truth.
This thing is a box I’m locked inside,
Never can I get out, It is the place I hide.

But there is always light on the inside,
That from the top it clearly shines.
When I look below I see nothing at all,
For the only place to go, is upward climbing the wall.

Neither can you see in the dark
But the speed of light ran, and has me marked.
Inside this box that happens to be a Book;
Instruction number one is just to simply look.

Then I learn, listen, and live-
No words of my own for you to give.
And no not at all am I ashamed of this,
Nothing belongs to me, I’m lucky to exist.

Though may I hear no luck in vocabulary
I’ll only fear God, but not a fear that’s scary.
Rather a love-try of mutual respect,
One that walks with me and never neglects.

A new life, a new mourn,
In a hidden concealed heart…
But always the same Christ,
Teaching my foolishness to be smart.

I just cannot get out of the Bible,
Shoe-tying knots… For a long while.
Walking into this Cannon of Truth,
Is yes and amen to all good that’s due.

Neer’ would I ever want to be released,
That for me is not a good thing.
I’ll stay chained, a slave of this Book,
Where I know Jesus saves every direction that I look 🙂

2-23-25

Prowriting Grade: Goals 68% Improvements 67%
It doesn’t like poems apparently,
and that is likely a good poem in itself, once written….

WHO WINS

Taking a photograph
of an empty picture frame
arranging the ponderosa pine boards
a wooded surround meant to be exactly right
around the nothing inside of it
fretting over the far off, distant speck
that could be a house or ranch
might be too much
subject matter in the photo,
everything had to be
Just Sooo…
or the addict would seek refuge
in the addiction
and the fight between the not-addicted
vs the addicted personalities
now stand eye to eye
nose to nose
the fighting almost starting
with the addicted’s steely little eyes
in a slanted head staring
into the focused non-addicted eyes
looking straight back
that is fraught
with an orange, determined compassion.

There, a cute woman
looking at me
short upturned nose
she was a part of something bigger
than herself.
She filled me, breached my stone redoubt
wanting a respite
even tho she pulled me towards her
with a silken rope
bit away from
but towards-to
hailing from me and returning
to me. We were both naked
making the intense attractions o much stronger
and dancing some primeval waltz
that energy exchange
alluring in close contact moist
nakedness bouncing, wiggling
wild hair not covering much
this intense attraction between us
to bond us,
“I am An Addiction” she says in a soft sexy, alto voice
finger slowly motioning to come hither
“I call to you to follow,
participate.”

Sometimes the addict wins
always the non-addicted is aware
of the hungry yearnings, the orgasmic attractions
each incidence is an empty frame tho
surrounding distance composed
wether, or not,
into a fretful awareness
of a grey, cloudy decision
on that perpetual blackboard,
was that another derision?
Or, just another carefully chalked mark
one two three four crossed slash-mark makes five
on the Self’s scoreboard information.
None of it a literal depiction
and nor is it a literary description
this being, the Self’s realization.

Same principle as-Dear John.
You are not leaving, So-I will!
You tell me so much-untrue,
So I am divorcing and leaving you!
Not married to you, nor addictions few-
You won’t go, won’t budge, So-I will move!

Though I have no idea how,
My learns of Jesus-He makes free,
Giving me rest… And He will best teach me,
How to defeat your homemade nest of Glee.
The one you built for years on end,
A false comfort-false feeling friend…
You was/is/am not who I thought-
You’re lying surviving, dread to me brought.

You can have me no more!
No reason any longer to fear myself,
For I don’t control me anymore -Jesus does!
Under His umbrella of Grace-
I’m found and completely safe!

Fear… whence comest thou?
I know not-though we are parting ways…
No evil to fear for the rest of my days!
No lies beside me-Jesus keeps them away,
Though around the bend you may sit at Bay-
I see thee far off and turn to you deaf ear,
You seek but don’t find… Your voice I cannot hear!

No words to you I have of my own,
Because Jesus true-builds me a new home!
You cannot have my kids, you cannot have my wife-
For you are dead my old cheating friend…
Because Jesus has ended your life!

I’ve already known fear,
Now it’s time to know God-
And fear cannot win because…

2 Timothy 1:7
For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, of love, and of a sound of mind.

… This promised fact I trust and love!!!

THIS NOTE NOT A PART OF THE SUBMISSION… this fresh piece, written last week, was a part of a very special moment – a personal epiphany really at age 70– that “It takes courage to be Happy.” Since been written, this piece has been read in two open mics, and well received.
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WINTER SUNDAY

I am defying winter
the cold and snow abound
by bare feet in sandals

even tho there is blue sky
visible thru the trees now
the branches are bare of happy green leaves.

A definition for being stuck,
in a certain defiance, a something
where the observation of a particular reality
is denied, where in that moment
seeing ain’t necessarily believing,
in wondering about the Webb Space Telescope
possibly having revealed an alternate view of the universe
(?really?) maybe it is only supposition
based on quantum physics?

Cold toes brings me back to
white, snowy realism
while questioning the faith I have in my brain,

why did that happen?
When loving another brings the pain
of separation, that great divide.

Twin reservoirs harbor cold water,
thick ice on top too, this winter Sunday
the cold wind blows my grey hair,
shivering, even tho I don’t want to.
What I can’t see diminishes my vision.
I do see the large, lone grey boulder, locked
in lakeside ice. Moose stand ‘way over there
my ears are in perfect order
hearing them call, EER-UGH, from the opposite shore.

—The American moose has a universal call between both sexes, the EER-UGH utterance varies with more emphasis on the ERR “syllable” in the does, and more emphasis on the UGH syllable in the bucks. When this poem is read on public, I am using the buck “pronunciation.”

Dear Pretty Dee,

I want to give you your flowers.

It’s so amazing how you were once so unaware but still walking in your power. You thought you were never worthy of anything good because of your past. You thought you had ran out of time, until you learned that you have the power to turn the hour glass.

I see you shedding new skin and you being free at last. You carried so much pain and now you’re finally shedding your past. Like a beautiful butterfly, you are freed from your cocoon at last.

I just want to thank you for rocking and rolling with life’s punches. You know how to transmute your strife and allow beautiful things to grow. You are a hero not just to your kids but to me. Even on the hard days you rise. I should call you and Phoenix; with how you burn in the fire just to ride from the ashes each time. Baby, you are a star who shines. And you never let it go out. Even when you were in darkness and filled with doubt you were still shining ever so bright. No matter how hard you used to self-sabotage, you couldn’t even dim your own light. I am so grateful to know you and to see you in every single season. You lived to tell the tales of why you had a 13th reason and how you beat it. You are more than a conqueror and patting yourself on the back doesn’t make you conceited. You thought you took some losses but really it’s a flawless victory. Because the things you release and let go of catapult you into your destiny. The better you are the best me. You ooze authenticity even when you try to hide in the shadows. Baby you are a sunflower and you will never be a rose. You really keep people on their toes. I am glad that you have learned to love being hated. Because now love grows in the places where you were jaded. I might be biased but I think you are the greatest thing that God could have ever created.

You learned to stop over-giving and watering others. And pour into you. I love the peace you have because you are more into your self-care. I love how you are so aware. I am thankful that you started implementing boundaries and you let them stay there. I thank you for allowing me in your space. I know i haven’t seen anything but your are giving me a taste. The endless love and gratitude that I have for you is unconditional and cannot be counted. I love that you over came the mountain that was you. I thank you for staying true even when you were lost. I’m so grateful that you realized that you are the boss. I can give you thanks and gratitude for ages but I might run out of pages. Because I am not worshipping just you but the Holy Spirit of God within. I am thankful to know that in you I will always have a friend and you got me where I lack.
DeAndrea, I honestly just want you to know that I am grateful for you and I love you to the next universe and back! You finally love yourself and stop waiting for people to water you back and get their approval. It’s the best thing you could have done. Taking care of you. So no matter what always stay true because your kids are becoming better people because of you.

I love you,