By The Light Of The Moon

He looks so good...by the light of the moon.  He smells so good...by the light of the moon.  The waves sound intoxicating...by the light of the moon.

I like how I feel...by the light of the moon.  I like how he makes me feel...by the light of the moon.  He touches me just right...by the light of the moon.  I take my fingers and caress his arm.  I marvel at his tattoo...by the light of the moon.  His eyes sparkle and glitter and my breath longs and deepens...by the light of the moon.

I want him to take my clothes off...by the light of the moon.  He asks me for permission.  I take his hand to my blouse.  He knows what to do.  All is right...by the light of the moon.

He whispers in my ear.  He talks with his hands.

What will the sun reveal in the morning? I fear that what the sun reveals will not reflect the essence of what took place...by the light of the moon.  I can't believe a word he says...by the light of the moon.  It's a risk.  It's a risk...a risk to bring the shades down low only to bring them back up...in the light of day.

What if the truth is shady? What if the truth is an illusion? What if I get swept away by nothing but shadows and romance? What if I was only ever floating in the air? What if I hit the ground hard when I turn the lights on?

Ah...what if when I roll over, he isn't there by my side? What trickery! How unfair. How unjust. Or, is it?

I made the choice to stand with him...by the light of the moon.  I wanted to feel all those things I felt...by the light of the moon.  I desired to touch his arm and marvel at his tattoo...by the light of the moon.  I took pleasure, as he did, under the light of the moon.  So what if he isn't there in the morning? I'm still in tact.

But...what if when I roll over, he IS there by my side? What if, when the sun comes to greet me, I see the truth exactly as it is? And, what if this truth is good and honorable? But, I'll never know, now will I...if I don't take the risk...and stand with him...by the light of the moon...

The Nine of Pentacles

I am alone in this space and it suits me just fine.  I have everything I need, although not necessarily everything that I want.  And, that's okay...I place my books on the living room table and head for the divan.

Yes, it can get lonely.  The loneliness is a reminder of a longing that no one can satiate.  I long for its own sake. It builds character, refinement and beauty.

I remove my clothes and set them to the side.  I stretch my arms out and close my eyes.  I am alive.  I am protected.  The fabric of the sofa feels soft against my skin.  I take a deep breath and then sigh.  I can hear the sound of chirping birds through the open window.  I can smell the scent of roses from the garden and a hint of sandalwood from yesterday's incense burning.

I remember what he said to me when we first met, "Love is too expensive. I'll never give that way, again.  I can't.  I won't."  I tell him I don't need his money. I can take care of myself. I do take care of myself.  He thinks I'm pretty...kind...generous...intelligent...but, that his heart is off limits.  Am I not worthy of love?  Or, is it he who feels unworthy? I know what he wants but he dare not pay for what he wants because he's cheap and I'm not.  I don't need him or anyone...not like that.  I deserve better.  I would rather be alone and content in my own being than in company and be miserable.

Rainclouds

I sit on the beach...alone...which suits me just fine.  The waves keep me company.  These waves are my companions.  The wind is right here, too.  It's a cloudy day...well, not really, but here, right here, in this space, yes, it's cloudy...and I like it that way.  I want to delve into this scene.  What's there to delve into when the sun shines bright and illuminates everything?  No, the greys are conducive to writing, conducive to romance.  The sun is for children.

It's time I take off my clothes, again.  I hear that voice, "Why must you always take off your clothes?" I reply, "Fuck you! I'll take off my clothes if I wish to.  You're not welcome here...unless you want to watch."  The voice continues, "I'm not your enemy.  I simply help you see."  "Well, then listen to me...I take off my clothes as a symbol of freedom, of vulnerability, of spirituality.  This is my sacred space and I will do what I please."

I feel the passing of time.  I know they say time doesn't really exist but it has to.  It has to.  Everywhere I look, I see the face of time, how it's left an imprint on everything and everyone.  I see my lines, my curves, my scars...lines, curves and scars that were not there so many years ago.  In the moment, we cannot see nor receive these subtle and sometimes, drastic changes...but, always in retrospect, always when looking "back", we can "feel" the impact that these changes have made.

And then you see it, you see what you hadn't anticipated...that you have changed, too.  You are not your former self.  It looks like a shell of a person or a part of yourself, you've shed, something you've discarded...not, intentionally, though.  It was never intentional.  It just kind of happened...over time.  I don't recognize her.  I realize how wise it would have been for me to be gentle with her, not to be so harsh, so hard.  Maybe, that could have done wonders for me in this now.  But, I can't go back.  I try not to be so harsh as I look back, try not to judge her and her silly ways, her naive ways.  I try to be kind but there are moments...moments when I want to yell at her for having been so stupid.

But, how fair is that? It isn't.  Because I was who I was when I was...and I have to accept that, embrace it all.  It served a purpose.  I am here in my new skin and I am aware of a process I wasn't aware of then, of which I am grateful.  It can be sad, though...feeling a disconnect with the outer world, with the "other".  That's why I sit here, by the beach, with my body bare.  I take in the magic of this landscape, like food.  These are impressions, impressions I receive through my imagination.  If I don't make the effort, I starve.  I dry up...shrivel up.  No one is a true giver, not the way Nature offers herself to us, everyday in so many different ways.

Death will come.  Death will come, as sure as the sun will rise - in my time.  What will I leave behind?  I hope it's more than this body, this body that will rot away and return to the earth.  It saddens me that all things created by man MUST come to an end.  I need to lighten up some of this heaviness, I suppose.  Why do I need to sugarcoat the truth? Why not accept it for what it is, so that it doesn't bring me so much sadness?  Then again, what's wrong with some melancholy? It produces some of the greatest poets...poets who can see beyond the clouds, poets who can make use of these clouds, poets who can make you want to love these clouds...clouds that are just passing through...just passing through. 

Ah, finally...the rain.  I get up and take a few steps towards the water.  I'm alive.  I close my eyes and tilt my head back.  The water of the earth and the water of the skies come together to create the perfect music.  Let it rain a little bit longer.  Let me feel myself and my power.  Let this moment purify me.

I turn around and see my lonely sword upon the sands...how insignificant it now seems...No, wait a minute.  It isn't insignificant at all.  I notice how the blade shines in the distance and I remember...I've only just laid down my arms, temporarily.  I will retrieve it soon and it will want to be retrieved for the sword and I, are one.  I smile as I walk out of the water, and under the rain, towards my sword.  Here, as I said, I have no use for clothes...

A Real Lady

Sometimes, love hurts.  "For you, I'd bleed myself dry."  Yes, that sounds right.  Love is like a rose and a rose has got its thorns.  You can't have a sweet smelling rose without prickly thorns.  It's impossible.  You're supposed to want to give it your all.  You don't even question because giving it your all comes naturally.  You love for its own sake.  It makes you happy to love.  It lifts you up to love.  It feeds your soul to love.  To love is its own reward.  You ask for nothing in return.  You love with all your heart and this love heals you from the inside out.  It isn't cheap.  It isn't conditional.  It's sacred.  It's beauty.  It transcends.  And, you have to pay the price...not with money because money is not worth a thing, here...but, with your soul, with your heart, because that's what's required.

And then some asshole comes along and hurts you.  He makes you question.  He makes you want to build a nice, secure, solid wall around your heart.  He toughens you up. He makes you see a truth. He makes you see what's out there.  He makes you doubt.  He makes you feel worthless.  He makes you feel ugly, unattractive, small and insignificant.  But, he's just a man.  He's just a thief and he has his own part to play, too.  You tell yourself you'll never cross that line again.  You tell yourself it's not worth it.  You tell yourself you won't be able to handle something like that again.  But, that's a lie.  And, he's just a man.  Love requires a certain kind of vulnerability.  If you don't take the risk, you'll never taste that sweetness again.  That's the truth.  And remember, he was only ever a man.

Don't let anyone ever tell you that what you seek doesn't exist.  We create our own reality.  What you seek is out there, waiting for you.  Make no mistake.  So what if it doesn't last?  Nothing is meant to last forever, anyway.  Why wouldn't you take the risk again?  So what if it tears at your insides?  Anything that can do that also has the potential of bringing you the greatest joy you've ever known. But, people want to play it safe.  No one wants to pay the price because people are cheap.  People are afraid.  People are broken.  You'll never be satiated, your thirst will never be quenched, by playing it safe. 

Do not compromise for a night of warmth.  Do not compromise for a night of passion.  Do not compromise for a night of touch.  You'll regret it in the morning.  And, he'll be long gone.  In your mind, you actually think that a night with you can change a man.  But, you'd be wrong...so wrong.  He only wants what he wants and what he wants is not aligned with what you need.  Do you think when he speaks the truth, that this "truth" is somehow better because he points out to you, as a matter of fact, that he isn't interested in the "real"? He doesn't believe in the real.  Do you think that this gives you permission to "lower" yourself in order to accommodate his desires? In order to feed an illusion that you matter to him?

Those lonely nights will come when you wonder whether they'll ever end, whether something of substance can take their place...at least for a little while.  I tell you...it's never too late.  Breathe magic into your own life.  Create things of beauty.  Work and work hard.  God helps those who help themselves.  You're never truly alone.  I'm not naive.  I'm not stupid.  I'm not a piece of trash.  I can take care of myself.  Make sure that you can, too.  And when he comes, when the one you've been "waiting for", arrives, which he will, don't guard yourself too fiercely because of the past.  He's out there, and he'll be ready, just like you and your heart will open up.  This time you'll be more cautious which is good.  Let him fight for you.  Don't show desperation.  He needs you more than you need him!  You owe this to yourself.  You deserve the best.  You deserve to be respected for your mind and your heart.  You deserve to be his only one.  Don't settle for less.  If he wants easy, he can get "easy" anywhere and at anytime but it can't be with you...because you're a lady with essence, with spirit, with grace.  Don't let anyone take that away from you!  If you don't respect yourself, who will?

Change

I was robbed almost three years ago on my way to work. A man held a gun to my chest and demanded I give him my money.

I'm glad I had money to give him. In that space between seeing the gun and asking for my money, felt like an eternity. What would he do? Everything runs through your mind in an instance. I was relieved when he told me he wouldn't hurt me. And, he didn't...not physically, anyway.

It was a warm spring morning. I walked along a residential street, the same street I had taken for years, on the same street of my neighbourhood cafe, but more north.

He asked me for directions. He was standing thirty feet away from me and after I told him where the street was, motioning with my arm and with some agitation in my voice, he drew closer and faster. That's when I knew something was happening.

Suddenly, my life is at the mercy of some guy...some guy who probably needs a fix. Alcohol? Drugs? Who really knows? What I do know is that he changed my life. When death stares at you in the face, life takes on new hues and shades, new colours, new meanings. You're never the same, again...at least, for a little while.

I say "a little while," because life does go back to "normal", your kind of normal. Life resumes once more. But for a little while, for a short period of time, one feels invincible. One is fearless. Things you used to worry about are no longer a concern. Things you took very lightly carry more weight. They become paramount. The breath of life is all enveloping and consuming. Beauty and ugliness exist simultaneously. They're not just cliches you utter. You understand their meaning! On the one hand, life is bigger and brighter and on the other, it's smaller and dimmer. And then there's that space between the two, where neither is affected by the other. It all just IS.

You don't want to waste any time because you can see how precarious, how fragile this life really is. You want to be understood. You want there to be meaning. You want to be seen. I don't know how to stress this last part enough. You...I want to be seen.

But, who sees? If I don't give this meaning, if I don't make this moment important, if I don't make it count, who will? Who can? It can only be me. It can only ever be me. What if I had died that day? And, for what? I wouldn't be here today, in this cafe, in this space, exploring that day, those feelings. I wouldn't have met the people I've met. They couldn't have had an impact on me. They couldn't have changed my world.

I lie when I say, "No one's gonna change my world." That can't be true. Because they already have. Change can be subtle or abrupt. People do change our world, especially when we get too comfortable out of fear of venturing out. They rattle our chains. They give us, sometimes inadvertently, a sense of freedom. They give us what we need even though it's not always what we want or how we envisioned things for ourselves. We don't always have a say as to how life will unfold. There are risks involved. What if we fail? But, what if we succeed? There's beauty in anticipation, in going through the process, in walking the path, one day at a time...one step at a time.

I've wasted so much time. Life is too short. It really is. I know that. And when I forget, life reminds me...

So, please don't ask me to compromise my integrity. Don't ask me to be someone I'm not. I can't give you that. I'll never give anyone that. I am who I am, and that has to be enough, more than enough. I am life. I am beauty. I am woman. I am the good, the bad and the ugly. I am all things and all things are me.

The Wholeness of Love

I take some sea salt and pour it into the water. I wait for the water to fill the tub. The heat creates steam and the mirror begins to fog. I place one leg into the tub and then the other. The warmth is comforting and soothing. I lay down, my legs outstretched and I smile. I'm so happy and at peace, here. This is heaven on earth. I sense where I come from. I know why I was born. In this here and now, all there is, is everything. In this moment, I expand to fill the entire room. I belong.

The water knows me. She's nourishing. She feeds all those places nothing and no one else can. I take my brush and comb my hair down, slowly...sensually. I wear a seashell necklace. Tea light candles burn all around. Each flame represents a piece of me. I decide when to blow them out.

I take my hands to my chest. I feel my depths...my highs and my lows. I take some pomegranate oil and massage it into my arms, my breasts, stomach and pelvis. I rub some oil on my face, then take a cloth to wipe it off...again, slowly...respectfully and with sensuality. In this space, I feel humbled.

I can hear the rain and I remember. The sound of the rain helps me see how alone I really am. It's okay because I'm taking in every little thing around me. I'm soaking it all in. This is my life and it's perfect just the way it is, even if it isn't exactly the way I want it or had hoped for. So what? I'm not really alone. Ever.

People just mess things up when you let them in. Nothing's gonna change my world...No one's gonna change my world. Where I come from, people are up front. They don't feel the need to play games or lie. When they care for you, you don't have to wonder or guess whether they do. You just know that they do. Their actions tell you they do. It's in their voice, their gestures. Eyeing your breasts, hips and legs, doesn't count, although it can be flattering...sort of.

Those days of innocence are over, huh? Not all women are the same. Not all women are gold diggers. And not all women will spread their legs to avoid having to feel their aloneness. Not all men are pigs. But, if he is one, he doesn't respect your mind or your heart. He only sees your pretty face, only your breasts underneath your clothes...your legs and derriere. That's all. And if he's jaded by a past love, you can forget about him. He's too guarded to ever open up his heart to you. He'll never trust you. Time heals all wounds but when we love, our hearts can heal faster. I forget where I read that. A man who tells you he will never fall in love again is also telling you that he doesn't want a commitment. He wants to keep it light, go with the flow...have sex...no strings attached.

Well, I value my mind. I value my heart. I value my body. And, he's got to value my mind. He's got to value my heart. I already know he values my body...but, that isn't enough, not for me. Ah, call me naive. Call me stupid. Call me ignorant. It makes no difference. I deserve better.

So what if he thinks you're beautiful? So what if he thinks you're "different" than the others? So what? How much can that mean if he doesn't ask about you? If he doesn't want to know your name? If he doesn't want to read what you are? If he doesn't want to know who you are? If he doesn't want to be asked about his own life? How can he really be interested in you as a person? He can't be. He just can't be.

Attraction pulls and creates a desire to know more, or at least, that's what I thought. Good for you if that's what you want. To me, it's empty and vacant. There are no promises, no guarantees, no expectations. But, I do have an expectation and if this expectation isn't met, I walk away because I respect myself. Who's gonna respect you if you don't respect yourself? What a turn off it is to see desperation in grown men. What a turn off to feel their eyes on me except for my face. What a turn off to see that I just finished talking and they didn't hear a thing I said! They all talk the same language using different words. Some come off more sincere but then when you take a good hard look, they're all saying the same meaningless thing, reducing everything to nothing! You're not a diamond in the rough, unless you believe you are! I shine bright!

I believe in love. No matter what. And maybe, I'm a little guarded, too. Maybe the walls around my heart are tough and secure. I figure, though, when someone truly cares, they'll help me tear down these walls...slowly, carefully, passionately, respectfully, humbly...sensually. Because more than anything, I want to be accepted. All of me. Only one part of me, won't do.

Fear to Trust

I look through the window of an old abandoned place. There are some chairs, a sofa...a mantle piece. I take a walk around the back...nothing but woods and trees.

I think of this old home, who lived in it, who sat on the couch...on those chairs...who stared at the fire when it burned...whether anyone even looked. How worn out and faded this house looks...just like me...just like me.

I take a walk through the woods. I don't know where it will take me but there are times, I beg, I pray for someone to tell me where it will take me. No one answers. No one ever answers, until I take a wrong turn, and I see that it's too late...and there's no turning back. I have to be careful out here...in these woods. There are no guarantees.

There are days when I am fearless. There are days when I welcome the darkness, when I yearn for it just so that I might find the light...a spark...a flame...Then, I see that I am fine. Can I not trust out here? Will the trees deceive me? No. Will this path before me, deceive me? How can it? I deceive myself. I pretend not to hear when I can hear. I pretend not to see when I can see. But, out here, I see the truth. I see who I am. I see what I am. I see what I want. Though, is it what I need?

But, I'm a fool. I am afraid. I'm afraid of the light even more than the dark. He brings the light. He brings what I've been looking for? I want to take...I want to dip my foot in the pool...but, I see that I can't. I see that I don't know how. I smell a sweet fragrance. I taste freedom. I hear a melody...a song...one, I can't place. My guard is up because experience has shown me how fragile I can be. I say I don't want to live like that but what am I supposed to do? I know what man can do. I've seen what man can do. I want to trust. I want to trust...but, this fear..this fear is too big...too crippling.

I'm too broken. Can I be fixed? They say that true happiness is cultivated from within...but, I believe in a happiness that can be cultivated with the "other." I believe in a happiness that can be accessed through the other. Am I naive?

I dance under the moon. She knows who I am. She shines her silvery light upon me. Life can be cruel and her timing can be impeccable so, I embrace this moment because what else can I do? Hope it was different than what it is? I have no choice but to take it one day at a time. Yes, life can be cruel...to show me a possibility, to provide an opportunity, to let me see a potential, to let me taste this honey and smell this beautiful red rose...knowing I can't fully reach for it, knowing how badly I want to. I'm well aware of those thorns. I don't want the thorns. I'm tired of thorns.

I've learned to be private, to stay quiet. I'm an observer. I watch and listen. Life has also shown me that good can come from bad experiences. If I don't take a risk, how can I experience the magic? How can I hold back out of fear of what might happen? Out of fear of the consequences? I can't imagine living another year like this. I should be grateful, right? That these opportunities come? On the one hand, I feel the anticipation, the joy, and on the other, I see the price I have to pay...because nothing is for free. Nothing. Not even Love. He's right. I hate that he's right. I dislike this truth. I wish I was free like him. I wish I was light like him. He's free and light in ways I'm not.

I'm comfortable in my own little space...in this little life I've built for myself. And, I'm also miserable and restless. If I don't do something about this energy, this passion within me, I'm just going to burn and turn to ash. I don't want to be a withering leaf. I have too much to give, too much to offer. I don't want it to go to waste. I don't want to go to waste.