What Happens When We Wake Up Perhaps you have wondered how the inside of your head is somehow vaster than the actual universe, how someone managed to squeeze the entire universe down to fit into your head and then snapped it closed. Perhaps you have realized that you are on fire, that you are also
This is such a delight to read, Rebecca! I found myself growing breathless a couple times and had to slow myself down. The words almost demand to follow upon one another like water over a great fall. Well done!
Here's an entry from today: "On days like this, when the world weighs heavy on my forehead, and the dust of the netherworld is spread upon the air, I feel nothing."
That tugs at my heart, Mahdi. I wish it weren't so hard to be a person, to accept our own splendidness. Is it because we cannot fly? Were we once fliers and the gods clipped our wings? But we can still feel them? I dunno. Sometimes I feel that I planned out my whole life before I was born, and that I wanted it to be really hard, maybe to prove some illusive point. If I could go back and plan it all over, I would NOT make myself bipolar, even if it meant I couldn't write poems. (not sure I believe that) In any case, I sense your pure heart, that it aches like a new tooth, that is wants its wings back, that it will spend its life trying to find them. And so it is with all seekers and lovers and creators. Much, love to you, Mahdi.
Love this totally, Rebecca. The last stanza especially gorgeous. So much here. I am giddy with the stretches and discoveries. It's like a universe expanding with being human.
Thanks, Richard. So much. So glad to see you. I often hear that there are more neural connections in our brains that there are stars in the universe. This boggles my brain. A lot. Often. So I think the poem came from my own AWE. I am glad it resonates with you. I also, most of my life, so often feel that I planned out my life before I got here....
This was really awesome. Just wanted to say great job!
Thanks!
This is like a song, Rebecca. It is like sitting inside your head and looking through your eyes 💗💗💗
N!! That is the loveliest thing anyone has EVER said about a poem of mine. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Such a flowing cosmic river of a poem!!!! Wow!
I’m so glad you like it, Rajani. I am trying to get outside of my own head, as least a little bit. It’s hard when you are as self-focused as I am.
Poetry maybe comes from those tangled spaces...I wrote some 60 poems a couple of years ago in what was a "memoir series"! But it did help me move on.
This is such a delight to read, Rebecca! I found myself growing breathless a couple times and had to slow myself down. The words almost demand to follow upon one another like water over a great fall. Well done!
Thanks, Darrell. I had to work to put in enough white space and pauses to make it manageable. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
My dear friend,
But I have never--almost never--reached out.
Here's an entry from today: "On days like this, when the world weighs heavy on my forehead, and the dust of the netherworld is spread upon the air, I feel nothing."
Love,
Mahdi
That tugs at my heart, Mahdi. I wish it weren't so hard to be a person, to accept our own splendidness. Is it because we cannot fly? Were we once fliers and the gods clipped our wings? But we can still feel them? I dunno. Sometimes I feel that I planned out my whole life before I was born, and that I wanted it to be really hard, maybe to prove some illusive point. If I could go back and plan it all over, I would NOT make myself bipolar, even if it meant I couldn't write poems. (not sure I believe that) In any case, I sense your pure heart, that it aches like a new tooth, that is wants its wings back, that it will spend its life trying to find them. And so it is with all seekers and lovers and creators. Much, love to you, Mahdi.
Love this totally, Rebecca. The last stanza especially gorgeous. So much here. I am giddy with the stretches and discoveries. It's like a universe expanding with being human.
Thanks, Richard. So much. So glad to see you. I often hear that there are more neural connections in our brains that there are stars in the universe. This boggles my brain. A lot. Often. So I think the poem came from my own AWE. I am glad it resonates with you. I also, most of my life, so often feel that I planned out my life before I got here....
an absolute delight, reading this poem, especially, "a hairy foot stepping onto the shore"!!!
Thanks, Mo!
Can you read the living star chart of your longing?”
What a line!!
Thanks, Alex. It almost didn't make the cut.
Yep. It's all in there, and sometimes...
Whooshka!!
Out it all comes.
One thing tumbling after another.
The mental Big Bang; in this case - as a Poem.
Rebecca - you may just have created a whole new universe....
D :)
Oh, I LOVE that idea, Dave. You may have just gifted me a whole new poem! <3<3<3
Ha! Rebecca as Goddess of Creation :)
D
Thanks, Billy.