Cliff Figure

So, they say just start writing,
if you want to be a writer.
Write what comes, even what doesn’t, just do the thing.
I’m writing and writing and, life is getting brighter.

What else do you see when you think of me?
Are there rainbows, hearts, a flower?
My mind is full of special things, slice it open, want to see?
I told you, it’s like a forest full of explosive colour, it holds a power.

If you look long and with precision, you’ll see the edge of the cliff.
There’s someone standing there, on that edge, in my mind, watching the water below.
Holding out their hands in front of them, palms up, relaxed, calm, never stiff.
Who is it that stands there, it is not me, is it my foe?

Keep in touch with the feeling, the grip and the all knowing.
The wind is pushing you, but also holding you tightly away from ill move.
There is someone inside your mind too, who knows the song of the future, the flowing.
Listen to the one standing on the cliff, directing the improve.

I am told to write by mine, she is telling me with great confidence, to fly.
She is much more delicate, soft and sure now, she see’s something I cannot just yet.
I trust her, she stands strong on that edge, the waves crashing below, she knows why.
The tide doesn’t sway her, the breeze won’t move her, she is free from fret.

What an angel she appears to be, I wish you all could see.
The way her words direct my desires, I am grateful for such a wondrous companion.
The girl on the edge of the cliff in my mind, gazing, she is totally free.
She will never leave, she is here forever, I can always find her, she will not abandon.

What does your companion say, standing on the edge in the mind of you?
How steep is your cliff, how high is your tide, what sounds do the waves make today?
I understand the reservation, the uncertainty and the questioning of who.
You can put all of your faith in that figure, they will always hold at bay.

The figures all stand strong, even amidst mighty storms.
The wavering of thoughts, the flickering of flame.  
I have always listened, always believed and neglected the thorns.
The conversation we had of late, eliminated all of the blame.

You are stronger in sight today, I see and feel you clearer.
The guardian figure of my mind on that cliff, steering me nearer.
Nearer and closer, harder and faster, she knows where to send me.
Off to the races I go, trusting in the shadows and in the light, it is, most definitely,
to be.

Wolves and Wine

You took off like a bullet.
Do bullets actually take…off?
I put on a sweater because it’s cold now.
Your absence brings an age of…ice.

Icy shivers down my spine.
I’m going to add to my sweater, some wine.
I don’t drink, is this ok? I look at your face, but I’m blind.
It’s a good thing we never signed.

I’m inside a warm and cozy cave.
I’ve got tools and I know how to save.
It’s just us now. You’re my fav.
The fire I’ve got inside, keeps me brave.

I’m ok huddled here, I’ll be ok.
I can hear the wolves outside, I hope they stay.
It’s peaceful in here, I’ve made a good spot to lay.
The night is long but today…is the day.

The cave walls have a smooth look.
No jagged or rough edges, nowhere for a hook.
I feel safe. The flames burning, crackling, I remember what you took.
Be careful out there, don’t get shook.

I sit here by the fire, in my sweater in this cave.
I watch their movement outside, the wolves pace back and forth.
I’m not afraid. I think they are my protection, not here for an election.
Thank you dear wolf pack, for having my back.

How did I get here? Huddled, alone, protected by wolves?
I can see the sky outside a bit. It’s bare.
What a feeling this is. Uncertain and unsettled, but in good care.
Fire is comfort for my soul and my mind. I close my eyes.

The heat pressing my face, it got brighter even without sight.
I pray that you are alive and safe.
I hope you come back one day. But until you do. I’ll wait.
Here inside this cave, behind the wolves. In my sweater.
With my wine. With my tribe.  

Two Is Enough

Two is enough for me.
If you gave me three, four, six, seven;
I’d simply say, “Thank you, but one is just heaven.”

I don’t know why I look up to the sky.
Maybe because the answers to questions of low;
Seem to always be found up high or higher so.

Busy, rushing, too many, too much.
Why does this game always feel the same?
Same old numbers adding up to more pain.

It’s why I like less, one and two.
Simpler, calmer, easier, intimate and quiet.
My cat used to say, “Emma you and me, that’s it.”

You see my smile, hear my voice.
But you do not see me or hear me and it is quite alright;
I have gifted myself wisdom to remain not small, but full of height.

The light shines brightly, kindly and with soft intention.
My heart is guided in the utmost strangest way now;
I am sorry for the explanation that I have not to know how.

I will not take up space where someone else should be.
My mind and soul have figured out the equation and it has come, with some hesitation.
But question not my intuition strong, I am lightning and thunder, the rain my slippery sedation.

Not nine or twelve or five. Just one or two.
The world is not what they say.
I look at you looking at me and think, “this is an incredible day.”

The water on petals, the dirt on my boots.
The ducks in twos, the sunshine plus one.
Did you hear that? Silence and so many, but also none.

I can’t believe I am here now. Taken so far and so deep.
You reminded me that there is special in nothing.
Then I fell into a sleep and woke up with a perfect and reliable, trusting of something.

The softness fills me. The colour enchants my eyes.
I cry with gratitude and thanks;
I have won the prize.