Dust is inherently spiritual, As we see from the fact that matter and energy inhabit both sides of the equals sign In the relative equation of life And though I was taught to value the things of the spirit beyond the things of the earth And then vilified for doing that too much , Still, I came to a place where I could be aware that they are and always have been the same Dust to dust, As they say, And “from the dust you came, to dust shall you return,” But what happens to dust after dust it becomes? In thousands of years when the dust is pulled together again By the turbulence, gravity, mass, and heat That create the stars themselves So that we are born from the dust anew Even as we will one day return to the dust again In the neverending cycle of beginnings and endings, Perhaps dust is the constant in all of this change, And perhaps as we sweep it away with a rag on a Saturday morning, Or bury it in the ground on a Tuesday afternoon, Stare at it in the mirror on a Monday before wor
Sometimes I feel like I am surrounded by enemies, dancing all around me Screaming Shouting into my head, into my heart In the mornings before school, And at night before bed When I can't stop thinking, can't stop thinking of all the mistakes I could make tomorrow, Remembering all the mistakes I made today, and yesterday, and the day before that one The times I screamed at kids, failed to motivate them, The times I didn't teach them anything or made them feel stupid And the enemy screams and shouts and pounds his drums In a frenzy And all I can hear is how awful I am And how I should quit and stop and leave and go And it's hard to hear the still, small, quiet voice of truth in my head, In my heart, Telling me what I've known all along, but forgot Forgot, forgot, forgot In the frenzy and pounding and screaming of the fears That tell me that I don't deserve to be here And what difference do I make anyway? But He just spoke to me yesterday, tol
When I was a child, society taught me how to be loved: I had to act a certain way, Pick a certain job, Look a certain way, Believe certain things, And always give to everyone, Laying down my life for others, Taking the smaller half of a shared piece of cake, And being totally intolerant of anything and anyone that deviates from the acceptable norm, Even to the point of self-loathing When I did not conform But love must be freely given to be love, So if I am changing who I am or altering how I act Or choosing a certain look, occupation, or belief, To make someone love me, I am not really being loved, I am manipulating people into demonstrating affection For an effigy that isn’t really me And I think maybe it takes great faith to be yourself And trust that love will come to you anyway, If you choose to do what makes your heart sing, And to express your authentic inner soul What a strange and inexplicable world we live in Because there is no truth in “If I’m good, they will love me,
Comments
Post a Comment