moe-tif

have we met?  hmmm, maybe…you look familiar…oh wait, i know…i’ve been carrying you around in my heart for what seems like forever…and now, here we are, face to face…you are everything i expected and more….am i what you expected?  yeah…i’m a lot to handle…hopefully you’re strong enough…

be grateful for what you have….want what you’ve got….how to arrive at a point when just the mere fact that i am alive is enough….that a spectacular sky be the equivalent of gold and that my riches be determined by the well cooked meal, the smiles on my children’s faces, the feel of a good man holding me….

when i write, i paint pictures with my words….pictures that perhaps only speak to me….expressions of my deepest emotions, my strongest desires, my need to find that serene place that i carry within….

my pain is a self imposed punishment….for what?  why do i feel i must cast myself into this dark dungeon, just when everything i have been seeking is just within reach….finally….

this indeed is the next layer to peel away, the veil that keeps me from truly being at peace….the one i hold so stubbornly in place….para que?

gitana, mora, espanola…tu pasion te lleva a los nuves y te mandan al inferno….mi espiritu se cansa….

those lips…what do they taste like?

so….i was thinking, as i so often do…about “story”…indigineous peoples worldwide kept/keep their cultures alive through story…they kept/keep traditions alive through story…they kept/keep their peoples intact through…story…

i wonder about us here, in the United States…i want to know…what stories do we take the time to tell our children?  are we so busy that we’ve forgotten to tell our stories?  sadly it seems to me…yes…our children play video games while we as parents work 2, 3 jobs, trying to survive…what is survival if who we are as a people dies by the wayside?
who are we?  what is our story?  who are you?  what is your story? 

i am…just trying to understand….tell me your story….

freedom is breathing in the night air and feeling satisfied for the moment, for all it’s perceived lack…it is a moment guaranteed to no one and yet…when one is present to the gift…one is alive and oh so grateful…

freedom is the full moon’s glow as your child revels in the marvel she is witnessing and then, attempts to tell a story about the glorious sight she is privy to…and all because you set aside the “rules” and took your children on a “moonwalk”…

freedom is knowing he is on his way and when he arrives it will be right on time because you will be ready…and all this readiness, what will it be for?  for the simplest of pleasures…a soft kiss, a lean on a shoulder, a silent night spent in the companionship of your love, your friend, your soulmate…

freedom…freedom is…no box can hold it, no story can bind it…it is, simply what it is…and it is all that it needs to be…