Clouds

in ,

I’m captivated by the billows of the clouds,
The seamless shifting from smooth to ruffled,
Never ending labyrinths etched by the wind.
Soaring above, I’m filled with wonder,
Entranced by the textures blanketing the sky,
Layered like paint, masking the world below.
Snow capped mountains peak through,
Sharp white ridges piercing the gradient puffs,
Thin patches of wisps reveal glimpses of creation,
Outlines of plains and waves blurred by the mist,
Millions of life giving particles suspended in air,
Forming each wisp, billow, and puff,
Until heaviness amounts and gravity prevails,
Drop by drop, crumbling into rain.
Lingering fragments, floating like cotton,
Pushed and pulled by invisible currents,
Simultaneously gathered and dissipated,
The drifting white and grey play a silent melody,
Amplifying the majesty of the Composer.

12.26.22

Resilience

It is a shield during trauma
The fight in fight or flight mode
The strength driving survival mode
When you don’t know how to keep going

It propels you forward
In search of stability amidst chaos
In search of hope and light
When darkness is overtaking

It is met with praise and admiration
“I don’t know how you’re doing it”
When you want to fall apart

It rationalizes unhealthy circumstances
Because “you keep bouncing back”
When nothing changes for the better

It overlooks the long term damage
Written in the depths of your heart and mind
Emerging when the trauma has passed

It is meant to be a temporary protection
But we stay longer than we should
It becomes our familiar, our known comfort

When is it ok to stop being resilient?
To let everything unravel.
To let the pieces fall apart.

Surely that doesn’t make you weak?
Surely resilience is not meant to be constant?
So then, when does the healing start?

7.8.21