, you know?

There is a feeling –

Not quite defined,

Hazy, loving, frustrated, hurting, up-in-arms, defeated, 

A feeling you get caught up in,

Revert to child’s thoughts in,

Forget your separate self in,

Reserved for a special circle 

Of those closest to you. 

That feeling,

Is a feeling I could do without

On this sunny today.

When I Have Wings

I envy people who are happy
Not just everyday happy,
the kind of contentment people experience when they don’t think of the state of their world
But the happy that comes from doing exactly what your soul cries for
Where you feel satisfaction with your life’s works and not just hoops jumped and amassed
This is the happy I crave
I crave it so strongly that sometimes I think it may break me
This urge that encompasses every facet of my existence and
demands
demands
demands for my attention,
For my consideration,
For my answer.
And answer it I want to,
If every tear I’ve shed could be frozen and carved into a sculpture of knowing
If I could chisel away at the evidence of my pain and turn it into something beautiful
I would.
I know I would
Make an artwork so large that every person whose doubt caused mine would stop and stare in awe,
unable to take note of anything but my painstakingly woven cocoon through which I’ve burst forth
My metamorphosis complete, yet never quite complete.
I would have wings and the future would be an adventure, not a peril.

Eyesea

I see a lot of things each day.

I see the cold Canada wind blow… and as if overnight, I see it hasten in the summer sun.

I see my friends go off to Thailand, Australia, Peru, Scotland…

I see the people around me pursue life as though it is something that will eventually run out.

… Wait.

I see myself in the mirror each day, letting the hours fly.

I see my hands hover over the keyboard, wanting to type, make a difference.

I see the time pass – I see my little sister grow up.

I see myself wanting something so much more…

I see my envy.

I see green and I see sadly.

I see my will to fight, yet I see my fear to grow.

I see the clock – tick, tick, tick…

I see the elderly, and I see the newly born.

I see the turnings of new pages.

I see it all,

From a perch I can’t get down from.

– Feb 5th, 2012