I am this movement, I am home

The sensuous ebb and flow of the breath, 
The warmth of the sun on the skin,
The touch of light on the eyelids, like a kiss,
The soothing sound of leaves rustling in the breeze,
The satisfying release of bodyweight into the support of the Earth -
Nothing in particular to do or be,
Just savoring the texture of life in this moment…

Relaxing, melting, softening into lusciousness.
Sinking down, letting go, deeper, deeper …
Breath spreading, massaging everywher inside, a gentle caress…Ah…
Here, now, the movement of life, touching me,
Healing me, revealing its simple truth - 
I am immersed in the embrace of life.

Yes, I hear the Yes.
And my response, Yes.
I am this movement.
I am home.

- Camille Maurine, Meditation secrets for women

Life’s fickle dance

This vagueness of being
this passing of time, groaning like a used up machine
always looking on the map, without ever
finding the right direction
A curse escaping your lips.

You dip your toe in salty water
trying to unravel the origin
of those never-ending waves
Fuming with a mysterious grace.
Would they carry you deep into the ocean
Or throw you back on the stony beach
as the only survivor of life’s fickle dance?

Riddles, half-hearted answers
The mist still playing with your head
Step by step you continue
dancing in the small marble square
The prints of your lipstick
still locked to your second glass of wine

How curious is the case of a girl who’s in love

An excerpt of something I’m writing (not sure yet how it’s going to turn out)
P.S. I like to write about love and relationships. ^^

How curious is the case of a girl who’s in love. Of course, she will wonder at the concept of love and the distinctions that can be made. She’s well aware that an early attraction, no matter how it burns her heart, is not the same kind of love as two people sharing a mutual bond, thereby transcending themselves and creating a space between them so potent it can bring forth new life, in all meanings of the word. Still, in a moment of excruciating self-honesty, she believes all the love in the universe is right there, softly pulsating in her heart, waiting for him to touch it and make it come alive. To her, her beloved is like a universe in himself, wrapping his presence around her, penetrating her every thought, without even having to know she exists. She denies it, she despairs at her own mental health, she condemns herself for her silly emotions – and yet there is no escape. The burning of a dreamer’s heart continues into eternity. She recognizes her beloved in different forms, different bodies, never quite being able to grasp his essence and put a stop to the crazy roller coaster. She has loved a lot of men from a distance, always finding a new appreciation for their divergent characters and a new glitter of life in the dark caverns of their eyes. Like a magpie, she has an impeccable talent for spotting glittery gold in others, even when it’s buried under several layers of mud. Her white side wants to dig up that gold and weave it together with the beautiful colors of their mortal and fallible humanity. She’d mould their bodies anew as the goddesses of old and give them immortal life if she could. But magpies are nothing if not made of darkness too.
Of course she has read all the theories, explanations, rationalizations about that age-old human experience. It’s only herself she seeks in others, the books warn her. Burning for love is nothing but burning away all the layers of illusion until your own essence is revealed. Look in the mirror, sweetheart, and discover who you are, instead of always yearning for his presence, for him to stand still for one moment and look you in the eyes. The beloved will always remain elusive.
A determined nod. A vow to change course, to be unaffected, even to renounce all that silliness known as romantic love. A hardening of heart. Her burning, yearning, ancient, knowing heart.
But what a vain and in vain enterprise it is for a girl of such intensity.
It’s not long before his physical presence unleashes every wayward feeling from under the heavy rock she thought she had buried her foolishness under. She can sense him from a distance, his very being there an attack on her body, leaving her reeling in confusion and burning need. She clutches at the remains of her sanity, the effort being the only thing stopping her from breaking the insufferable tension and doing something stupid. She’d rather die than letting him see anything of the torment raging inside her soul. So, she meets his eyes and politely answer his questions, all the while dying a little on the inside. 

If I wanted to fly, I’d be a bird

In silence I sit
waiting without expectation
for that divine movement of soul.
I have no need for transcendence,
I’d rather go downward
to the very core of my being
burning in radiant flames.

I am knee-deep in mud
a fertile stirring of my own essence
Here my name is written
Here I can rest for a while.

After all, I am human.
If I wanted to fly, I’d be a bird.
I’m not afraid to love my body,
or to graciously accept
my transient, messy life.
I’m stuck to the ground
No floating away for me today.
I’d rather remember my wisdom
by crawling and kissing the earth.
Besides, when I lay down and turn around,
All the clouds are below me
and I am above the sky.

Still I Rise

A poem to learn by heart! ;)

Still I rise – Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you? 
Why are you beset with gloom? 
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you? 
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you? 
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs? 

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. 

I will love you back to wholeness

Something I wrote to myself when I really needed it. I still need to hear it.
Never forget, you are your own best medicine.

I am here, my darling
Come take my hand
Let’s sit together
Let’s breathe together
we are alive.

I have come for you
to take you in my arms
I have come for you
to listen to your wounds
you don’t have to scream
at the walls anymore
afraid no one will hear you
I am here, my love
I have come to set you free.

Walk with me
In the sunlight
Let’s dance and kiss the trees.
Let’s roll in the fertile mud
of possibilities
and hide nothing from each other.
You are safe, you are loved.
You can be here, exactly as you are.

No more striving, struggling, pleading,
wishing, hoping, yearning
Let’s stand still for a while
Everything, anything you are feeling
is welcome here.
I will love it and embrace it
Don’t worry – I am strong enough

you can express yourself, little one
I will never turn away
I will love you back to wholeness
I will give you space to breathe
It is safe now to grow, to cry, to yell, to sing,
to die, and be born anew
over and over again.

I am here, I’ll hold your hand.
Let’s trust each other.