i can’t, she said.
i feel, she said.

i’m scared, she said.
i’m alone, she said.

i’m lost, she said.
i don’t know how, she said.

i need, she said.
please, she said.

hush, she said.
i’m here, she said.

it’s time, she said.
you’ll see, she said.

you can, she said.
you will, she said.

trust, she said,
please.

i am not the small of me.
i am the all of me.

i am beauty.
i am light.
i am love.

{to be read to yourself, dear one, aloud, slowly, and often. you are loved.}

sometimes
there are no words
for what binds you,
for the cage
that keeps you
small and silent.

even i, with all the words at my disposal, have none.

the tiger sees the bars of his cage and paces,
knowing his own strength.

we pace,
not knowing our own,
wondering why we don’t feel free,
forgetting that
sometimes
invisible bars
are the strongest of all.

i apologize.
i do not mean to leave you in despair
when the truth –
your truth –
can slice through the darkness like a clap of thunder
and dissolve
the bars around you.

this is how it starts
after all,
a scream welling up in the silence.
soon enough,
you will learn your own strength.
you will learn that you are free.

i still remember you.

you come to my mind
in what seem like
the most random of moments.

like when i see an image of a space shuttle launch.

i remember
watching a space shuttle
(maybe the challenger?)
on your tiny tv.

or when they play an old michael jackson song on the radio.

i remember
seeing a blank tape
on the shelf
next to the bed.
you had written
michael jackson
on the side of it.
i was a little jealous
and i wondered
whether grama & grampa approved.

or when i eat those sweet & buttery & yellow butterscotch candies.

(except
i haven’t eaten them
in years
so i guess
it’s really when i think of them.)

the funeral home
had
a bowl full.
we were allowed to have
one
every hour.

and sometimes, when i look up at the stars in the sky.

(i always whisper
hello
and wave silently.)

i wonder:
if we are all made
of the same stuff as stars,
do we return there?
and if so,
are you twinkling up above me somewhere?

i wonder:
can you see us?
do you look down on us?
do you know that i am thinking of you?

if you do,
i hope
it makes you smile
to know that
your memory
is forever intertwined in my memory
with space shuttles
and michael jackson
and butterscotch candies
and stars.

it is a cacophony of crimson moments, twirling and twinkling in an endless pirouette.

there is a fire burning in the center of my chest.

can you feel it?
you must be able to feel it, even you, so far across the ocean.

i cannot hold it in.
i do not want to hold it in.
it is all that is good and true in me, setting everything alight.

the fire does not discriminate.
it burns for the homeless man on the freeway entrance ramp,
the single brown leaf on the tree,
the dog on my bed.

the fire burns with passion and purpose.
it is a funeral pyre for the dead;
it turns coal into diamond;
it is a beacon in the darkest night.

the fire is fierce and wise and holy.

it is lighting the way toward a wild, joy-filled life.

i see you.

you: light, radiance, a bright spark.

you are trying to hide yourself under a dull grey cloak.

you don’t fool me.
you don’t fool any of us.

did you know that your cloak doesn’t quite fit?
did you know that it has holes in it?
did you know that it is so old and worn that you can see right through it?

when you move, when you breathe,
the light dances through the holes and around the cracks and edges;
it sways back and forth with your breath;
it showers sweet blessings on everyone and everything in its path.

you are radiant,
like the sun after the rain,
like a golden yolk nestled in the white,
like the first bud in spring.

you can deny it, you can hide it, you can run from it,
but you cannot escape the truth of it.

we see you.

we see your light.

together
no, not together
alone

here, i am always alone

i’ve been here before

in my dreams
in my waking life
in my dreams that have yet to be dreamed

and yet
it is different this time

before
i was holding back

i say that i am seeking
the divine
madness

and yet
i am really seeking safety and security
in a different form

the madness is here
again
knocking at the door

i want to let her in
i want to answer her call
i don’t want to be afraid anymore

alone
i step
out
over the ledge

i am not waiting for a net
i am not asking for wings
i am not crying, “save me”

i am falling
i am tumbling

as i fall
through terror and exhilaration
through loss and love

i wonder
if i will live or die

there is a blackbird in my breast
and a bluebird in my ear

each one is whispering secrets
the other one can’t hear

i wish i could show you how beautiful you are

when your eyes light up,
when you smile that slightly crooked smile,
when you squint in the sunshine.

i wish i could show you how beautiful you are

when you feel like your face is puffy and red from crying,
when you laugh the laugh that you worry is too loud,
when you’re hot and sweaty from carrying groceries into the house.

i wish i could show you how beautiful you are

when you wrap your arms around her (or him),
when you bend down and gently brush a flower,
when your voice squeaks with excitement.

i wish i could show you how beautiful you are

when you speak,
when you’re silent,
when you listen.

i wish i could show you how beautiful you are

yesterday,
today,
tomorrow;

now,
always,
forever.