Shipwreck

Again, I find myself starving. My stomach is empty, barron, and unbearably at rest. I inhale deeply, hoping that the air in my lungs will make up for the nothingness below my ribcage. This familiar desert wasteland is hotter than I remember, but somehow today I find shade where I can rest my shipwrecked honesty on the dusty cracked clay, though I do not hesitate to acknowledge that the silence is piercing.

Time goes by like a vengeful lie, the noise muffled by secrets and restlessness. It's hard to believe it's been so long, though not long enough, not nearly long enough. My thoughts are reckless, like a sobbing symphony of crashing waves. I hear the sand trickle back and forth with the tide; the roar of chaos sucks me in and spits me out, leaving my tears to evaporate under a faceless sun- I pause as the relentless ripple of heat waves drill through the water with angry intentions. If only I could forgive myself; my mind a frenzied sea of questions and accusations that attack my insight like heat seeking missiles. True freedom would be too much to ask without draining the tank to empty its contents back into the polluted sea full of distorted thoughts.

But I do find shade somehow in the midst of the heaviness. There is a Divine purpose in every instance of questionable circumstance, and knowing this, I will forever search for the beauty in existence.

Imagery for Stillness

The thunder spills promises from behind dark grey clouds as the rain falls swift and quiet. Drops fall for miles, gather speed, and shoot down their anchors through the steaming core of the earth. Suddenly, reality drenches me with truth, itself an unforgiving grimace; I beg for answers, but in return I get nothing: a bitter silence. I stand shaken, prism tears blend indistinguishably with sweat and rain; three impure solutions that morph into one clear pool of disappointment. I watch quietly as infant vines reach and grow beneath my feet, grabbing at my stillness with their sticky green fingers. The earth spins slowly, grinding on its axis, and in many ways I feel upside down more often than I feel right side up. The shallow puddles reflect the shedding of my jaded thoughts, my withered shell sopping wet and begging to sit and rest. I give in just this once, but only to sit and marinate in the sorrow. I tell myself it's only temporary.

For now, I appreciate the way the rain frantically washes away my splattered clay footprints- it banishes every trace of my existence just as fast as I arrived, reminding me that no single piece of earth is stamped with ownership. So here I stand: My feet planted firmly on a nameless corpse, the weight of my struggle sinks into the soggy earth, marble markings long ago faded away and I feel perfectly suited to this place. Not merely meant to evaporate- but instead to expand my lungs- if only for now- to make room for potential; my charred bones will eventually blend with the soil to sprout a most determined vessel... a landmark of a life well lived.

Where I came from and where I end up are most certainly connected with perfect clarity.

The Unknown.

I am the mysterious vapor, disintigrating over time, life's threads sewing me shut, ripping me open, offering me beauty on a silver platter, and then shoving me back down on the dirty asphalt; my face molding with the grime of the world, diamonds rolling down my cheeks and I become so aware of everything that I feel. I don't want the American nightmare. I don't want the blackness of the endless night...For to consume this lost and tangled vessel, to drag me along steel stakes and force feed me poisonous smiles is to defeat me. I want to explore the air, swim in imagination, plummet far into the white vortex that in some curious way will be my future. I don't want a map, no directions. I want to be free from the chains of the known, the world as we       know         it. And when my candle burns out, I will light the way with shimmering ashes, waving the blood stricken banner over my blistered sincerity.

Until then, I simply am.

Dusty, but Settled.

I am overwhelmed by a newfound sense of connectedness. Every tree screams my name as I pass, every piece of gravel grabs at my ankles as I step on their faces, tiny tombstones of fallen pride. I am distilled to my essence, meaning to feel every component of this earth and appreciating more than ever the sound of nothing at all. Mother Nature swaddles me in her thirsty yellow spotted leaves, tears full of rotten dreams and anguish, and I gladly own my humanness. After all, I am her daughter. Every frail stalk of yellow wheat whispers love and gratitude at my shaky knees, my bones bursting at the joints at every passing sprint through golden and green crop circles. Every pore in my body explodes nets of salty thankfulness as it grabs at the scorching earth, steam rises from the fertile soil and I am grounding myself in true beauty, living every day feeling like this inanimate place is the most perfect expression of God's love and creativity: a gift most undeserved. I am tearing down walls, building myself up, and in the most true sense, I am grounded to this earth because I am most in love with her.