Blank Mystery

I see
Blank
I see
Potential
I want to be exact
On
Blank
Empty
Pages
I want to put my mark
Exactly
Clearly
What I want
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Then
It is sent out
And the mystery begins

What I mean
What I hear
How I feel

Like hawks
Preparing a nest
Clearing out unwanted
Predators
Threats
to protect what they birth

Still
There is the unknown
Nature
Wind
Rain
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The blank page
Is my nest
It is what I birth
Empty, until I put my mark
On the blank paper
Before
The mystery
Of misunderstanding
Of joy
Of rejection
Of forgiveness

The blank page
Has my spirit
My intention
Mixed
With other voices
Messages
Desires

As I mark my words
On the page
I taste for too much salt
Check if my spirit is as light as a feather
Determine if there is anger or blame
I make corrections
Additions
To say what I want to say
To offer opportunities to
See
Hear
Feel
Connect
With more awareness
More dignity

My heart responds
To the echo of my voice
My words

I listen
Deeply
Unconditionally
Allowing words to fly free
To embrace the mysteryDSCN0441

Momentarily Exquisite

The sensation explodes in my mouth yet the act of swallowing, welcoming the substance into my body, is barely recognized. When I take the time to notice the exquisite taste I can be overwhelmed. Similar to eating the most decadent dessert, the span of childhood can seem momentary.

As a child I remember imagining what I would do if I was the parent, teacher, president, or dictator. I would rule the world with playful irresponsibility. When my time came, becoming one confused parental body, I had no idea where to begin to make the onslaught of decisions. How is it possible to carry, nurture, and birth a new life while forgetting the joy, laughter and playfulness of being a child?

Today, I celebrate my anniversary of the miracle of giving birth. The transition of releasing two beings as one to two separate beings stopped time, thought, and the constant distracting mindless chatter. I became aware, completely of the present moment, of new life and first breath. I was not the first and will not be the last to experience this miracle.

I have much to be thankful for on this anniversary. Vulnerability, desire to remember the wonder of innocence and forgiveness for myself for so very many missed opportunities to love without expectation, are just some of the reasons I am humbly grateful for the experiences of motherhood.

Like a child asking a million times“Why . . . ” I asked myself questions along the way. Unfortunately, I often did not know the questions to ask. I haven’t given up, and continue my search for the questions that will bring me back to the decadent, rich, sensation of childhood.