Wednesday, March 18, 2009

my own row to hoe

Don’t come at me with this silliness.
Come to me in stillness.
My life is what it is because of my movement through life.
I’ve made my choices, I’ve followed the path I’ve laid through my days.
You’ve done what you do, said go here, over there, but I have chosen.
Did you teach me to emote? Did you teach me to dance? Did you teach me to speak the way that’s uniquely me?
Did you teach me silence? To find the moon in dim starlight?
You taught me to love what doesn’t make sense…passionately.
And I chose to.
And I choose to.
Of course I credit you, a very important turning point, a spot on the map, named and gilded, gleaming and missed fondly.
Longed for at times, even.
But the quintessential guru,
The forlorn and forgotten mother of your own myth,
That’s your trip, my dear.
Your yarn to spin.
One helluva lover, strong enough to hold me long after lights out.
Lover. Love Her.
That’s my call.
That’s my truth.
That’s you.
Ridiculous.
Beautiful.

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