Tag: Identity

I forget, sometimes, 
 
 what it is to be me. In the bustle
of everyday and the demands coming 
every way, I forget how to hear 
that quiet voice,  
 how to just 

  relax 

  into that person who is 
soft, and serene, and 
vulnerably and wholly at 
peace with herself.
 
 The quiet is filled with  

     noise 
 
because That Me loves and 
needs the voices and 
laughter and companionship 
of those I love and those 
I admire and those who, 
bless them, love me. 

That Me wants to help and 
thrives on participating 
and encouraging and 
bringing a bit of sunshine 
into the world. 

    But. 

   That Me  
    also needs 

  The hush of sitting in 
nature, so quiet the buzz 
of insect wings is an 
exclamation and the song of 
whispering leaves is a 
lullaby. 

  She needs the lapping and 
gurgling of water that has 
seen 
    greater travels 
   and alpine meadows 
    and has looked down at the 
 
small greatness 
of Earth 
from a cloud's-eye perch 
in the sky. 

 She needs the caress of 
the breeze and the kiss of 
the sun and the rain 
running down her cheeks. 

 She needs the strain of 
effort and strength of will 
and accepted challenge of 
lake and trail. 

 And as her eyes are dazzled by 
the color-washed sun 
settling behind the hills,  

 As her limbs stretch in 
rebuilt muscle and her soul 
in regained tranquility, 
 
 My heart beats  
 in patterns of eons 

    that transcend  

 the cry of minutes 
 and the crowding
 
     rush of days. 

 -KJ Roe