finding roots

photos albums strewn.

emotions thick with dust stir.

its me in all those photographs. in all those places far and long away.

i have been here hidden under layers of loss. retreating from myself and who i have become.

or who i have said i am.

a smile crosses my heart as i realize that i have me. that perhaps i am not lost.

or forgotten.

that i have the parts to put me back together.

that the roots of me are still alive. dormant but alive.

i have only to give them nutrients and i will begin to grow.

once again blossom.

and this time, i will not push myself into what i think i am. i will feel my way tentatively as a root slowly unfurls its awesome potential into new thick soil.

once a month

my thoughts make it onto a page.

not often enough.

with no cohesion or context. they float. from me into oblivion.

with no one to read or understand them i wonder of purpose. and intent.

as if perhaps a story may emerge withering on the white of the page.

a thread i can follow. or pull out of seam in my consciousness.

i've been waking up in the morning saturated by her presence in my dreams. and yet i haven't kissed her.

me against the world

thinkin bout organizin a union.

Thank You to Chief Judge Vaughn R. Walker!

For recognizing that California's prop 8 violated the Constitution's guarantee of equal rights for all Americans.

tuesday afternoon: who knows...

a sky swollen with the possibility of rain.

i feel it in the breeze and the scent taunts my nostrils.

i should water the new rose bush anyway.

in the midst of stabilizing my broken heart i distract myself

with the past.

pulling the weeds in my veggie garden.

painting the kitchen yam!

pickling.

sewing projects: curtains and perhaps a dress.

the calm of waves on my toes and sun on my skin.

all so i don't think of her with some other woman.