Time, for my Sisters
so...
I have 2 sisters that I love dearly, more than I can say, and I talk to them, mostly via text, nearly each morning or sometime during the day... I allow my heart to open and speak them. We connect.
Among the things I am, I am a poet most deeply. It's my first voice.
Sometimes, to the annoyance of my inner sanctum friends, if I get into a mood, I'll begin speaking in verses - words & phrases that are clearly a heightened use of language. Folks thought for a long time it was just a lil' parlor trick. It never was... My muses speak through me, making use of the voice I've honed nearly as long as I've been making sounds.
When poems come, I simply capture them more than write them. Today, for the first time as I was talking to my sisters (but not an uncommon occurrence for they come at any time), a poem indeed arrived in my texting fingers just as willingly as in my vocal chords, in my very breath.
I don't think they'd mind if I shared it with you. Here it is:
Guess whut, Ladies?! It's time... Time for all of your dreams to come to life in your hands and feet and throats and eyes It's time Time for all of your seeds sown to spring forth ready for your harvesting hearts and hands, nimble with fingers unafraid of work and risk It's time No metaphors here Your life is not a metaphor It's real It's breathing into and through the sun and stars Don't let science and data and abstractions of all kinds blind you to your realness your vividness each and every moment in even - & especially - the unexpecting moments in each breath you take maps will never be the territory Live your territory Enhome your territory know it like the back wall of your heart Be real today More real than you've dared before It's time.
~O The Unstoppable (written in-text, 08:50 am)
The poem now has a title; the same as the one for this blog post - "Time, for my Sisters"
