I open my eyes and I open
my soul.
My mind perceives
far more depth
than I can fathom.
Through observation,
I accumulate the wisdom
of countless libraries,
vaults,
tombs.
As long as I am breathing and
seeing,
I am learning.
“Illumination.” – bem
They built the old schoolhouse
at the top of the hill
with the greenest grass
facing East.
They made the schoolhouse
from red brick and limestone
and those magnificent windows
gleaming and tall, clear.
The lawn was lush
with verdant, crisp-smelling grass
topped with neatly planted flowers
and bushes and trees.
A white stone fountain
with water gushing from
the earth and shooting upward.
And with time came the ivy.
Catching and grasping
and pulling itself
up the red brick and limestone
toward the clear blue sky.
September through May
a hundred times over.
Thousands of lessons
and recesses
and respites
and running
and whispering
and screaming
and thinking
and speaking.
The ivy climbed
through it all,
up toward the blue,
never looking back.
But oh! If it could only see
how far it’s come
from that dark, dank soil
toward the cloudless sky.
“The old schoolhouse.” – bem
Tied and untied
sewn and unsewn.
We learn to create
and un-create.
The value is in the
doing and
undoing.
As long as there’s
a shift,
there is life.
In order to stay alive,
we must keep moving.
It is the utmost intention of each
atom within ourselves
to stay in motion.
Even when I rest, I remain
in motion.
In order to stay alive,
I must keep moving.
“Moving.” – bem
The void created by what we don’t know
precedes all intelligence.
In order to make way for the gifts and blessings
of what we learn and
experience,
there must first be an opening.
“The void.” – bem
The flame.
Oxygen fans flames
to keep them alive
like souls in bodies.
Breathing in –
inhaling,
dragging, drawing,
sometimes panting,
or even gasping –
to stay alive.
Then the inevitable
exhale.
The contraction of the lungs.
Release.
Relief.
Then expanding once more –
to stay alive.
Fanning the flame of the human spirit.
First the initial spark.
Then brightening,
glowing,
flickering,
dimming than bursting.
Oxygen flowing in and out –
to stay alive.
The seasons.
Throughout the seasons,
the leaves on a tree
change
one by one.
Winter, spring, summer, and fall,
and back again.
In winter,
the barren branches frost over,
covered in crystals,
and slumbering to survive
in the darkness.
In spring,
gradual thawing
leads to growth.
The blossoming begins,
sap seeps through the cracks.
Expanding,
Thriving,
Feeding,
Feasting.
Opening to the sun,
dancing in the rain.
In summer,
the leaves laugh –
tickled by the wit of the wind
breezing by
and reaching up to the light
in a mutual embrace.
Basking,
Glowing,
Giving and receiving.
In autumn,
the preparation begins.
Storing nutrients and
cutting off leaves.
Each turning colors,
then spiraling from sky to soil,
performing its grand finale.
Gradually,
the tree fortifies itself
and lays down to rest.
And then,
the frosting and slumbering
begins again.
Our bodies are like nature
with the intelligence and wisdom of trees.
All of our parts
sensing and feeling the time.
Responding,
Working,
Sharing,
Expanding and contracting,
Sleeping.
And still,
every time the season turns,
we panic as though we’ve never
been through this
dozens of times.
But we have –
We’ve simply
forgotten.
Since,
like the trees,
the seasons
keep us
brand new.
“The seasons.” – bem
Today, you are born.
Everything has re-created itself for you.
And in response,
All there is to do is love.
Inhaling, exhaling.
Eyes cracked open for the first time,
Seeing:
the world for the first time.
Your mother, your father,
Your sister, your brother.
Yourself –
for the first time.
Him, her, us, them – all.
The dense blades of lush green grass
and blazing canary yellow sunlight.
Cool, cerulean skies
dotted with shape shifting cotton candy clouds.
Wind rushing toward your fresh face,
Glittering ocean waves.
Entire bodies of water
re-created for you
to love for the first time.
The feeling of cool, gritty sand
slipping through your clenched fists,
shifting underneath the weight of your feet.
The first time you heard a crack of thunder,
Shivered in the rain,
Then tasted a warm strawberry sunset.
Experiencing it all today
For the first time.
And in response,
All there is to do is love.
Inhaling, exhaling.
Until you lay down for another rest.
Until, again, the opportunity presents itself –
Born again, to another new day.
The world re-creates itself for you.
And you awaken, and crack your eyes open,
To love it all again,
Like it’s the first time.
“Today, you are born.” – BEM
The most fearful moment is
when we stand on that ledge
looking down below
from the airplane
cliff
diving board.
Butterflies in your stomach
Life flashing before your eyes
Like film,
polaroids,
stills.
But the weird thing about it is
If we never took that leap of faith,
Swallowed that ball in our throats,
Ignored the butterflies
and the adrenaline that made our
blood pump and hearts race like hell,
There would be no highlight reel
8×10 glossies
Instagram feed
of memories
Flashing through our minds.
And so, as we go on,
There will always be that new moment,
Dying for its place on the reel.
And the only thing that allows it to happen
Is that same moment
In different places
At different times
On different ledges
Where we find ourselves
Feeling that screaming feeling
Between fear and courage.
Mocking you,
Taunting you,
Because oftentimes what looks and feels like falling down
Is really a jolt up
Into that sparkling, crackling, newness,
And the look down is merely
A reminder
of what you’ve accomplished
Lying beneath you, behind you, underneath you.
Supporting you
As you stand tall,
preparing to skyrocket forward.
Screaming
between clenched teeth,
eyes,
fists
Into that sparkling, crackling, newness.
“The ledge” – BEM
When I love myself,
I love the world.
When I respect myself,
I respect the world.
When I love myself,
I love the world.
If eternity is within
a grain of sand,
All of humanity
is within itself.
My neighbor is my mirror.
I look into his eyes
and I see myself.
When I speak to my sister,
I hear myself.
Self-love, self-care, self-respect
are all just an act of
community service.
When I love myself,
I love the world.
When I love the world,
I love myself.
“compassion is self care” – BEM
heartbreak and cigarettes 