Author: Anemone

I strive for quality and deep meaning. I am a listener and a creative interpreter. It is in my nature to transform what I experience and observe into some form of art or action. I offer my writing through this blog, Everbearing. My voice has been longing for a receptive audience for years--for the opportunity to be read, to be heard, to perhaps reach someone in a relevant moment. I am done allowing my inner voices of doubt and fear to silence me. I am dissolving the walls that hold me in, one dense stone at a time.

Dear Heart

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Dear Heart,

(a letter to my heart and any other heart in need)

 

The absence of romantic, sexual, intimate love that you are currently experiencing is not a sign of your inadequacy, nor of your unworthiness. You are worthy of healthy, whole, reciprocal love. One day you may find it, or perhaps it will find you. Take a moment to remember you chose this path, and there is purpose in it. Solitude and loneliness are great teachers. Take a moment to acknowledge the abundance, the multitude of forms, of love in your life. Love is all around you just waiting for you to notice, to enjoy, and to pass on. Conjure all you have to give your phantom lovers–your fierce passion, your warmth, your softness, your playfulness, your strength, your pleasure, your touch, your humor, your fantasy, your special sauce, your everything–and let it rain down on your being in a quenching, nourishing, ecstatic flow. No one else owns your love. Though others may ignite and inspire your love, it is yours and it belongs only to you dear heart.

I am drawn

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(for my unsung muses, and in honor of eros)

 

I am drawn to you

as I am drawn to water,

to river and ocean.

 

Your allure,

it seeps subtle, into flesh and bone,

into thoughts and dreams,

knowing not boundaries of distance, nor time.

 

Your allure,

it electrifies my senses.

It awakens the unspoken.

 

I long to immerse my body in your waters,

to swim your strong currents,

to be held in moments of stillness.

I yearn to feel permeated,

to cleanse and be cleansed.

 

I could surrender to your waters,

so cool, deep, and dark,

so soothing

to one who burns.

I could let your waters take my life.

 

But we are not adversaries,

and I am not here to offer up my life.

We are energies capable of joining, elementally–

magma flowing to meet oceanic waves.

We together would be

a crashing, transforming,

warming, cooling,

sighing, steaming union,

creating future fertile ground for regeneration.

Parts of Her

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Parts of her are held.

Parts of her are held together.

Parts of her are held together by stories.

Stories inhabit her cells

shape her thoughts

form her identity

radiate her heart

haunt her spirit.

 

She belongs to some,

and some belong to her.

Others have traveled from beyond.

All are interwoven,

all are calling,

all are longing,

some are begging–

to be recalled

to be told

to be heard

to be released.

 

If she tells,

who will listen?

If she tells,

who will believe?

If she tells,

who will keep her stories?

 

 

Will her telling be a mending?

An unraveling?

Or, will her telling be an unraveling and a mending?

 

She understands her questions are ancient–

that there is no knowing,

that there will be no reassurance.

The answers will come

when she begins–

and as with all beginnings,

her voice must rise from the dark silence of the unknown.

 

Winter Solstice

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Winter took my hand and said,

All your plans,

all your ambitions,

your obligations

and best intentions,

all your hopes,

your burdensome fear and anxiety–

set them down now.

Let them rest now.

Follow me

into the dark depths,

of world,

of winter,

of self.

Bring the burning embers

of your inner fire.

Open your heart, again.

Open your heart, again.

Allow the questions to enter.

Let some sift and settle.

Let others go.

For an eternal moment,

hold yourself outside of time.

Feel the convergence of past, present and future–

tributaries of the river of you,

flowing always into the vast sea of existence.

Your first task is to learn to belong,

as heron belongs to stillness,

as eagle belongs to the winds,

as fox to shadow and vision,

as coyote to improvisation.

 

I Am

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I am a child of heat and friction,

of love and lust,

of laughter and wisdom.

I am a child of golden summer sun,

of amber harvest moon,

birthed in mountain shadow,

in a land of dense coniferous forests and fertile foothills,

a land carved by snow melt and river flow,

a land where the wild meets cultivation.

 

My heart forged in molten lava,

simmering quiet and deep within Wy’east–

local legend of unrequited love–

I too burn hot and constant.

I too love long and fierce.

 

My spirit is kin to the fox.

I spend nights shape-shifting,

traveling keen and swift and silent.

 

Ancestry from the north, from the west–

a bloodline of labor through the seasons–

I call upon your guidance in my prayers.

 

I am a newborn,

I am time-worn.

I am learning–

how to tend and temper my fire,

to cleanse and free my waters,

to listen and to be of service,

how to reclaim and to be claimed,

how to love and to be loved,

how to create balance in the midst of chaos.

 

 

 

Desires

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I want to feel the cool damp caress of night on my skin–

the density.

 

I want to feel the intimacy created in the absence of light–

the hush.

 

I want to breathe the darkness of earth–

the intoxication.

 

I want to drink the medicine of night–

the renewal.

 

I want to linger in tree-shadow with you,

then bathe our flesh in moonlight–

the fantasy.

 

I want to lay under the cosmic sea,

as you name the stars–

the communion.

 

I want to know we exist

outside of my dreams–

the fruition.

In the Eternity of Your Absence

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In the eternity of your absence,

I encounter layers of myself.

My divinity, my demon.

My dreams, my desires.

My goddess, my god.

My nature, my essence.

My suffering, my pleasure.

My past, my present, my future.

I encounter the borders and boundaries of me and everything.

 

In the eternity of your absence,

I learn the contentment of solitude,

and where the edges blur into loneliness.

I hear and see with newfound clarity.

I feel the burning pulse of my longing.

 

In the eternity of your absence,

I learn that my body

hungers for your body,

while my soul seeks you who sees and feels beyond–

the you who knows your power,

your root of creation,

your divinity and your demon.

 

In the eternity of your absence,

I admit, it is high time to take off the masks,

to remove the uniforms,

to break the chains of patriarchy.

This undoing of gender is revealing,

we are multi-dimensional star-beings

housed within sensate earth bodies.

 

In the eternity of your absence,

I know my root of creation–

how it illuminates destiny’s path–

how desire and intuition intersect.

I learn to distinguish the depths,

of my power,

and the purpose of attraction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lest We Forget, a poem for autumn

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Early autumn days of waning amber sun,

eyes drawn to the weaving dance of contrasts–

light and shadow dancing through the trees,

shadow and light in a lover’s eyes.

Light and shadow.

Life and death.

Shadow and light.

 

The raw beauty of the world calls us to awaken with every new day,

lest we fall asleep,

lest we forget.

 

Summer’s flowers transformed,

hanging full and ripe.

These silent offerings,

willing to satiate hunger,

await the pluck of tender fingers.

A most primal, humble act of love.

An exchange accessible to those paying attention,

to those willing to act,

to those willing to fulfill the need to be seen,

to be known,

to be complete in purpose.

 

The raw beauty of the world calls us to awaken with every new day,

lest we fall asleep,

lest we forget.

 

Mid-autumn days of misty gray skies,

of flaming yellow, orange and red,

brown decay and evergreen endurance.

Harvests now gathered,

shelves lined with abundance,

and yet, questions linger–

like open, outstretched hands,

half-drawn circles,

tables set for company–

Will you enter into the natural exchange of love for love?

Will you dine in honor and gratitude?

Will you step into the circle offering your conscious, humble self?

Will you remember your purpose and do what you came here to do?

We Fall Apart to Become

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The empty shell shimmers against the dry, rustling grass of August.

I crouch low to the earth.

I gather her brittle, translucent skin, gently.

This skin of days passed.

I admire the patterns of her scales,

the texture visible, tangible,

color now faded.

I hold her cast-away sheath in the palm of my hand.

I think how I am like her.

I am part snake.

I too have outgrown my skin.

I too have shed the old, many times–

for survival,

for cleansing,

for growth,

for truth.

The shedding is agony.

The shedding is ecstasy.

It is a death and a rebirth.

I hold her old skin–

this temporary art of moments lived,

this disintegrating map of who she was.

I watch it flutter into pieces and scatter in the wind, returning.

 

 

A Love Letter

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Oh Love, I have been searching for traces of you for centuries.

I have been digging for your bones.

I have been singing your name.

I have been peering, plunging, into the depths.

I have been listening for messages carried on the wind, in dreams.

 

I followed the trail of your scent

caught in the heat of summer–

drawn by an instinctual desire,

lured by magnetic force,

pulled by eternal threads of destiny.

 

You and I, we are ancient history.

We are future possibility.

Our time could be now.

We could mirror and magnify the light within.

We could come into enlivened alignment.

 

We have water and laughter in our souls, for healing.

We have fire and passion in our hearts, for loving.

We are divine. We are stardust.

We are animal. We are human.

Our words stir the four winds.

Our hands tend the earth.

We are more than can be seen–

earthly and cosmic elements embodied.

One day, we will walk the threaded path home to each other.

We will shake the earth with the amplified rhythms of our dance.

 

You and I, we are ancient history.

We are future possibility.

This could be our time.

A time to mirror and magnify the light within.

A time to come into enlivened alignment.