Devote yourself to your purpose and you will cultivate the life you desire.

Month: April, 2015

Ballet + Butterflies

Some afternoons
I melt into colors

I became purple once
only to learn what a beautiful color it is

But I’ve been all sorts of things

the painter
the poet
the lover
the enemy
the God
the fear
the fighter

I always liked to play pretend
dress up

this world
this life

…my stage

Fluttering + Spinning about.

I used to flutter like a butterfly
…on cocaine

like a ballerina
…parched from a desert storm

Now I flutter + spin
but simply
as the butterfly
as the ballerina


the fine thread
of gravity

Where chaos used to dangle
birthing a storm inside me,
the silk threads of my dance slippers hang
being gracefully caught in the breeze

Where I used to fall in the storm
The wind now gently sweeps me off my feet

For I am learning

is just Freedom
set to fire

I am still the butterfly
Always the butterfly
But this time round
My wings don’t burn

In daylight
I dance with sunrays
In night-skies
I dance in moonbeams

And I rest
on the ashes
of all of my cocoons

For what the flames caught,
For who the flames caught
I have no regrets

The spinning
the fire
My Evolution

What “was”
to what “is”

Chaos to Balance

Now, my stage
could be minimized
to the point of a sewing needle

And I would walk upon it,
I would dance upon it
as a finely trained tightrope master

I may fall off

But I know
I have it in me
to pull myself up
to pray to the heavens
to lift me

I know
the angels will use the needle
and silk thread of my ballet slippers
to sow together a pair of wings
from ashes of my cocoons
I once rested upon

They will gently pierce me
weaving the wings
into the skin of my back

and the gentle breeze
who once whisked me away
will whisper in my ear
“everything is ok”
“chaos is just Freedom set to Fire”
“and you my love cannot be burned
for you have learned
to Dance amongst the Flames”



There was a delicacy
in the way she lived

She was but an orchid
touched by rain
and by sun, nearly too much

A single leaf from the tree
fallen gently upon an ocean wave
With which she would ride,
putting her life softly in it’s hands

There was a courage
in her movement
But none too much

For she knew
She was not the creator
of her movement
but rather, the vessel
through which it’s grace could dance

There were days
the waves made her stomach weak
and others
made her senses tingle

She felt the glitter
living inside of her,
for her light not only shone Sparkled
Hoping to catch
another’s gaze by surprise

There was a tender curiosity
nurtured by her youth
But one she hoped she would carry
until her body laid to rest

There was a door to her heart
which she unlocked long ago,
then threw the key
to the depths of the ocean floor

But after one too many stormy days
she swam to the floor of the deep blue sea
looking for the key
to lock up the door once more

but the key had grown nubby with barnacles,
Starfish had built their homes upon it
For they felt she would come back one day
Looking to lock herself up
And they knew better than her,
this surely wasn’t her true desire

For her heart had been breathing
the free open air for so long
It surely wouldn’t know what to do
with the heaviness that comes
with hiding oneself away

So, to the surface of the water
She Rose Again
And rather than rushing to shore
She laid upon the waves
Breathed deeply
And felt them tickle her back
Gently caressing her
in a way no other being could

And this was where she felt whole again
being one with the vast expanse
feeling so small
and yet so vital

an organ
a vessel

she was not the blood
she was not the sea
she was the space between
where all things moved free