Tracy

She burns like a flaming fire,

dancing and singing to the crackle of her own heat,

consuming her surroundings.

Her blazing personality

captures the hearts of many.

She radiates brilliance –

light shoots from the top of her head down to her toes,

bursting like the golden sun.

She is the essence of warmth.

Humans gather around her for wisdom and love

They worship every beat of her heart –

if she’s alive, the world is safe.

She brings others life,

her tender voice beckons salvation,

the touch of her hand brings solitude.

Oh! how lost the world would be!

Without the presence of such an individual.

The mystery remains, however,

she believes herself to be lost,

her modest nature is a plea for help,

a summon for something greater.

Her head swims with the stars and

her heart dwells with angels.

She believes herself to be searching still…

sailing away on the ocean of uncertainty .

The desire to always be better

is not a failing fancy,

but if she only knew…

Oh, if she only understood,

that she’s beautiful.

She’s inspiring.

Every movement of her soul

is electrifying.

She’s a masterpiece of true radiance,

her spirit is a safe haven

for the troubled ones.

But she wouldn’t know,

she wouldn’t know any of this.

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Clocks of January

Silence pours over my eardrums

Talk to me? No — not tonight

For I am in a curious state of being

I’m feeling my blood rush through me

It’s swirling and dancing in my veins

Life is pumping from my fingertips

I pause a breath

Wait…two, now more

Hold my breath to hear the clocks

Feel time slip away

Each tick a moment faded

Into what?

Darkness.

Where does time go when passed?

I check my empty closet

Behind my bathroom door

Venture to the woods and pray

Not here a voice calls

Search somewhere else today.

In the meadows

Up the ally

“No.” said the drunken man

“You missed it, kid. Keep runnin’ ‘til you’re dead.”

Death.

Ah, I found it yes

Not to earn back

But my earnings here lie

Clocks are not the enemy

But what the seconds mean

Do you see?

Chasing, running, flying by

Catch it — no

Let it go

And fly with it

One secret to an old wives’ tale

Do not throw away clocks

Do not hoard them in a drawer

Do not watch it turn

Do not try to turn yourself

Lay it there

Touch it not

Do not look at all

Just feel the moments giving life

And give back something more

 

I Am Here

Starting out is hard. On the outside, I appear calm and collected. However, my insides are frightened to their core. I’m entering the world as an individual, alone. I’m as if a child in the dark; not sure where I’m exactly going or how to place my footing. Most times I try to avoid making confrontation with the world as much as possible. Truth is, people scare me. Not because I’m afraid of judgment, but for the reason that I don’t know what I am doing half the time. I know who I am in an eternal sense, but my character is still to be unknown, even to me.

But that’s the great thing about starting something new for the first time. Isn’t it? The uncertainty of it all gives me a chill of thrill. In a good and frightening way, but mostly one that shocks every nerve in my being with fantastic delight. For the longest time I’ve been a pile of wishes. And never making anything happen. And not because I lacked the courage or the fear of commitment, but I just had this thought (and still do at times) that what I have to offer the world doesn’t matter. And truthfully, I can’t change the whole world with my little blog, but maybe, just maybe, I can change a pool of people. Even if that pool just includes myself.

I am here because I am tired of waking up every day wishing that I would be able to express my passion in some way, shape, or form. I love writing! And when I came to the conclusion one day, I asked myself… Well, why aren’t you writing then? And dang it, I mean to. I mean to. But it’s been a struggle to realize that I don’t have to be famous or even known at all for my words to matter. And I think this is the biggest problem with mankind – that you have to be “somebody” to attempt the unknown. Why can’t everyone be a somebody? A really good mom. A really talented 11th grader. A super hip dad. Why can’t an average person by realized for the miracles they perform everyday?

The miracle I performed today was simply this: I got up from bed, I went to school, and I kissed my husband goodbye for work, and now I am here. At my humble writing desk, pondering on where I want to lead my life. Even in the smallest, simplest of ways. I don’t want to be a forgotten voice. Even if no one listens, I know that I at least made an effort to pursue a life dream. And that will be enough for me.

Disclaimer: Now I have the tendency to philosophize about life quite a bit. Should my counsel be heeded? I highly discourage it. Half of the words that spew from my ill-used mouth do not make much sense at all. Somehow in my head, they do though. But when I try to justify my thoughts, my words betray me. I’m not mighty with words, be fair-warned. Writing is far from crowning, also. But what I can say, I will. With whatever words I can curiously find. Will I make a difference in this universe? Maybe not, but maybe so. I know it will make a difference in my life. On this path to self realization, I will create a better person of myself then I was the day before.

I send this message of thought out into this vast void, hoping for a better tomorrow. What are you hoping for?