maybe the kingdom of heaven is...

maybe the kingdom of heaven

is in us

it is inside (small) 

and outside (big) 

and you are housed

in it all

while we are housed 

in you

if everything is connected 

maybe it is the joint 

as we bend

in accord we spin

but for each (micro) movement 

we make 

each decision

you adjust (macro) 

seeing  

breathing 

directing  

living in your kingdom breathe 

reconciliation becomes infinite 

but so sure

maybe it is the thought 

that creates chemistry 

inside 

and the air that all the earth (creation) follows 

the gravity that make us fall hard

outside

like birds in pattern of

murmuration 

we, in community, 

are

working it out

you place us side by side 

each selection ripples

moving the whole

like a love machine

we work 

revolve 

you said it isn't about me

but it is... isn't it? 

only bigger 

it is bigger

we are shaped

like birds 

like microorganisms 

like star cluster

and you have us

Tried and Failed

I tried.
I tried my hardest.
Gave it my best effort.
And failed...
at being a good wife.
at being a good mom.
at being a good person.
Failed in countless other ways.
I have fallen so short that there are no words that can make up for the shortcomings.
I failed, and I am sorry.

"I want to know if (I) can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes!'" - Oriah Mountain Dreamer

name it

whatever it was 

it wanted us to itself 

it came underneath us 

ripping the rug

acting out a cue 

so tactile memory would fall into place

maybe if we name it 

it will bring us to 

what it had for us 

in the first place

the memory now set

I can recognize 

something I still haven't named 

it was earlier still 

wasn't it? 

do you remember? 

whatever it is 

we should try nameing it now

and in that moment 

claim promise 

change hearts 

bow

to the lesson 

maybe it owns us anyway

already turning us into air and flame

and this process is 

the why that I was carrying on about

Maybe the weight is love?

I feel it

take it in 

every bit

the intensity

is a weight 

like water soaking a sponge to full

and being rung out empty

if every room

contains a bit of every person who enters

soaking up words & feeling

maybe that is what I am 

a room 

a space 

where it all is held

my walls

my tapestries

my body

the barometer in the room

no wonder 

I feel like I am on the outside looking in

is community something for me? 

what part of the story has me in it? 

“The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight,the weight we carry is love. ” ― Allen Ginsberg

If a heart can break from

If a heart can break 

from being kept 'as if'

I have burst my heart

told it to hide 

because it was not worth the 

thought 

effort 

fight

If roots can be stripped

and told to not feel alive

I have crushed my roots of all energetic pulse

spoken into them 

a hundred lies

more

to make the dance stop

If your core can be smothered

it would not be from hands

(hateful hands take blame well)

but from false submission

used to bury real thought

In my silence I spoke it out

"You should be punished"

If your life force

can be left out to dry 

clipped by abandonment 

set to fade in a fake expression

my false voice 

can be blamed 

it called me undeserving

and withheld love

but possibility

sets to work

remnants of truth 

in dormancy

manage to force a bloom 

creative power

and the colors of thirst

peek out

even in the hostility I created

love, in a spring of tears

begins to overflow