I want to be plain. I want to be bland. I want to be ordinary. I want to be common. I want to be blank. I want to be flat. I want to be normal. I want to be empty.
Because I don't know who I am. Because I became all of you. Because I practiced your practice. Because I expressed your language. Because I wore your clothes. Because I learned your rules. Because I played your games. Because I fought your wars.
Now I relax...quietly. Now I listen...closely. Now I remember...peacefully. Now I breathe... slowly. Now I balance... rationality. Now I feel...simply. Now I see...perfectly. Now I communicate... willingly.
And so as I become me. And I return to clay. And I wait for the light. And I listen for a noise. And I realize I am complete. And something just made sense. And that was my first real thought. And I become connected again.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
lovely poem, really love the clay line x
oh, carmen...I understand. I do. More than anyone, I do.
mama...I have been thinking of you for years. Please get in touch with me. chrissiecarnell@gmail.com don't post this. haha.
Post a Comment