Rumination

It's been such a long time since I've written in here... I've been a bit swept up by life as of late... between grad school, searching for a new home... new job... all of which I've found now thankfully. I am packing up my life currently for the move this coming Sunday... simplifying my life is more like it... 6 trash bags worth of trash thrown away, 3 bags of clothes donated, pieces of furniture tossed.. sports equipment... it's very much like I'm picking up my life, shaking all the waste and residue off, and putting it back down again in a better place. I'll be sad to leave this place, where I've called home for the last two years. But I couldn't be more ready for this new chapter in my life. I feel like I've arrived... and that good things are coming.... :)

In the spirit of this life change... while cleaning I found some writing from when I was in college (undergrad) and producing work everyday... this was from one of my poetry workshops. Hope you enjoy! Be well....<3 5/2004 Rumination

I remember when you said,
"love is more than bugs flying around in a jar."
You said that I'd never find my reflection
staring into a carnival mirror on the wall.

But, all I can think about is the butterfly,
that can never be caught, but lands gracefully
on your finger jutting out in the air.
Pretending it's the wind that you're baiting,
without a purpose the butterfly is there.

And then I remember what you said about the mirror:
I could spend hours scouring
and still see nothing at all,
but the illusion of someone...
just a stranger in a bathroom stall.
A shifty, altered replica of a rigid character
trapped in a dream.

You say that love is more than good intentions,
and that our brave retentions need to be released.
If I open my jar and dreams of tarantulas crawl onto the floor,
I pray you'll recognize the person looking back at you.
You'll say it's all about our love.

I notice, in reflection,
that you are always there.
But with these infestations,
is it a promise, or a dare?
I would jump if I knew you would catch me,
but as I'm staring over the edge;
I can't tell if you'll be here for me.

When my jar has broken open,
the carnival mirror's picture cut and dry,
when the lively insects are all dead,
when the dreams have all bled,
will you say it's all about love?