ego strikes; humility reels me back in;
surrender guides me to places i couldn’t dream of experiencing in the shallows of my smaller self…
all the while, grace whispers her secrets to me as i fall into the arms of my own potential…
diving fearless in the face of my own tears to find
how another person’s condescendence
can rule so much of my focus
and i reach further in to hear those voices of so long ago
telling me how they percieved the one facet they saw
not knowing the depths of my experience…
compassion trumps anger when the face in that window turns out to be mine…
allowing me see outside of myself for a minute,
when my inner world is on it’s face
daring to hope that my efforts might earn me more than a glimpse of grace…
Thought: Midwife between heart and form.
Word: Midwife between possibility and fruition.
Deed: Midwife between creation and illusion.
Thought: Perceptions of reality
Diluted by the biases and experience of our elders
Word: Spoken, Written, Read and Agreed upon
Pregnant with vision
Mediating circumstances and Birthing our future
Deed: The illusion of control personified
Marriage of Intent and Action
Consummating Karmic Return
losing myself in the illusions of control and depravation,
forgetting that such polarization is the ultimate message
that I’ve lost touch with my own creative potential.
For a while I seek what I know I cannot find outside myself,
but blindly hope that the answer will be easier to accept
if presented in a friendly way.
and I breathe.
And realize that the chaos I experienced
was still an expression of Thought, Word and Deed
magnifying my power to create my circumstances
so that maybe I’d take notice of what I was doing.
While screaming and bright lights may distract,
they never fully capture my attention.
I listen and learn most from the confidence of stillness
and the security of silence.
And consciously choose what
Thoughts, Words, and Deeds
I wish to breed, nurture, and disseminate
much as I wish to foster in my own Child.
© 2009 HAWilcox
for a friendly word
for the truth
when vulnerable is the only place
one can truly live free
from anger, fear, intolerance,
compassion lends both her hands
to soothe the lonely heart…
© 2009 HAWilcox
sometimes i think that i wouldn’t feel so lonely, if maybe i was just a little less of myself…
a little less intense,
a little less emotional,
a little less afraid,
a little less self-centered,
a little less sensitive,
a little less outspoken,
a little less vulnerable,
a little less free-spirited,
a little less hopeful,
a little less compassionate,
a little less talented,
a little less intelligent,
a little less paradoxical
a little less me…
but i only think that because the ones who loved me the most because, or maybe in spite of all this, are gone…
and in these raw nights of self-induced pity, i lose appreciation for myself, for all that i love about me…
and knowing all that is going on in the world, i hate that i’m not more grateful, that i feel so needy…
and even more, i hate that my feelings don’t limit themselves to my sleeve, but emblazon themselves across my face, my heart, my actions…
until i look at the innocence of those i love the most, and real-eyes
that a little less me
is a little less human…
and that just wouldn’t do…
©2009 H. A. Wilcox