Eggshells and Bethlehem
A stable is a place to keep a horse and in fairytales a place to birth a baby, but stable is the story I told myself about you. Solid, a model of strength and here you are a tripod, upright only if the pressure is evenly applied. I blame myself for lopsided need and try to find a way to keep this coupling standing. Stripped down to minor contact I wonder if you actually remember me and then I wonder if I remember myself. This is what is at stake, this is the trophy I lose when I fall for you and you fall down. Where is the girl I worked so hard to create? Broken eggshells litter the nest and I look for the chick I used to be. I fear losing you, I cry at the thought of losing us, I die at the loss of me.
Graft beauty to stability
IN THE MEADOW
Being the only tree in the meadow often leaves me feeling lonely
I tell myself of the camaraderie I imagine in the forest
These images are more poetic than real.
I believe in community and support
I think of the woods as a place apart
From the complications of my exposed life.
I shrug off the very real competition and struggle
From sharing every inch of root space
And the search for each square of sunlight.
There is much joy in being an individual
An eco-system of diversity allows me to fully develop
I can spread my branches and my roots.
I can offer shelter to those in need of my reaching and my shadow
Tender flowers and tired birds find me a haven
I have unique abilities in this field
Space can feel lonely
But it is full of possibilities.