Thrive Do you hear my song? do you know I am rooting for you. I see your petals have all fallen off no leaves to cover your nakedness even the green has forsaken you. I breathe warmth on you in you and through you I want you to live. do not bow your head, raise it up! breathe- see I am doing it with you. I feel you tremble but do not be afraid. Your roots are too deep they cannot be removed. see I will water you but you must want to live! I must see your brown turn to green yellow, red and purple. I must see you spread and take flight. I must see you lifted high way above the deep blue skies. Your must perfume my world brighten my rainy days. but my only prayer for you - you must thrive.
Hear me out for a minute. Sometimes we may feel we are being strong, resilient even defiant when we dig in our heels and refused to be moved. This calls to mind the African American spiritual song, “I Shall not be moved”, I shall not, I shall not be moved Just like a tree planted by the water I shall not be moved… I am sure it is meant to call to mind the strength of the individual to remain firm in the face of overwhelming obstacles. And while traditionally, it carries a positive message, let’s consider it another way.
Sometimes we have to move. Sometimes we have to uproot ourselves out of that water that has become infested by all manner of pollutants that threaten our true selves, our very lives. We cannot be rooted in places that offer no nourishment, that shrink us instead of making us tall, that compromise our potential instead of making us flourish. At that point we must move or be removed.
But, I wanted to go to the idea of walls. I have always found solace in hiding behind walls, after all aren’t they there to protect us? So we build walls to keep bad things out and the good in. Overtime we develop a false sense of security, we believe we are untouchable because we have the wall there to keep us safe. We start forgetting how bad things can get and we sometimes forget to recognize those things that are used to deceive us, we forget the evil and what it looks like and the fact that it can take many shapes and sizes. However, walls are never impenetrable, they can be breached. And when they are, will we be ready for the consequences?
How far can we go to have the lives we want for ourselves, in a space with innumerable pockets of potential disasters? This is not an easy question to answer and certainly cannot be answered by thinking or philosophizing about it, but by doing, taking action. However, there is one thing that I see as sure, sitting behind those walls and waiting things out makes us sitting ducks for those pockets that can explode and destroy those walls and breach those imaginary bubbles.
Maybe I have it all wrong and maybe I need to think this through some more. Could it be that in focusing on what we want and what we do not have that we have failed to realize how much we do have, at points in our lives. Yes, we have all heard and know the sentiment of appreciating what we have, but we often do not, and I know I have not and need to be honest about this. There are times when we realise that we do have things to be grateful for but that epiphany does not go very far. Too often the reasons to be grateful are buried under an avalanche of desires that occupy our waking and sleeping moments. When we go to bed we are consumed by them and when we wake up they greet us first thing.
Maybe we need to more intentional about first loving what we have, not just being grateful that we have them but actually loving on them. Loving them to the point where if we never get those things we dream of we will be okay. We will be okay and love the life that we enjoy because of them. We will be okay, mentally and spiritually. We will be okay with no regrets that this thing never happened or we were never able to get those things we placed on our bucket list.
It is truly hard sometimes to realize that we are pushing aside what we have for what we desire. However, sometimes before we can get something else we need to show that we can love what we have. Whether it is a talent with think is not so impressive, a job, a possession or even the people around us, we have to love them and show appreciation for them no matter what. It doesn’t matter if they can help us get ahead or if no one else appreciates those things you appreciate. What matters is that we take the time to give love and show gratitude for having them. I know the saying is true from my experience: a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. We cannot lose sight of the importance of what we already have, they matter. They have helped to shape us and they will forever be a part of who we are. Therefore, while we pursue new dreams may we never forget those we have attained and while we seek new paths let us not leave the things or people we have gathered from old routes behind.
Love what you've got because you need them to thrive love what you've got without them you may not survive all the trappings that seem to frame all your dreams that take you further away from yourself. Love what you got they are your saving grace. Love what you've got Let that set your pace.
The Enemy Within A spring bubbles up and bursts forth lots of promise lots of pomp. As it gets bigger and flows down it faces lots of twist and turns. The winding mounting from which it must descend made it tired and it stopped. it gathered to itself things it thought would make it strong enough. With each new stop it gathered more some good, mostly bad. By the time it reached the sea it had brought new dangers disguised as friend though it was foe. Because it loved it the sea rejoiced with open arms to receive the daggers it had wrought.
I got a note from my aunt once and I never really thought much of it. The note was written on a pretty paper and I kept it more so for the pretty print and the sentimental value but not the words she had written.
Then one day I thought about reusing the paper for a gift – it was so pretty! But I realized – because I had forgotten that something was written on it – that I could not use it and I was disappointed and threw it back down.
Much later I took it up and my blood ran cold and my heart skipped a beat:
” I was waiting for something extraordinary to happen but as the years wasted on nothing ever did, until I caused it to” – Charles Bukowski
How did she know? Did she known that she was giving me a gift and a burden? And I cried for the wasted years.
Now, where must I find the courage and how to stop waiting and make my extraordinary come true?
There are just some poems that move me to tears. So sentimental, that all those moments from the past just come rushing back. This is the case with, It was the Singing, by Jamaican poet, Edward Baugh. Those nostalgic poems that make you hopeful and tearful at the same time. Tearful because your heart has been full for a while but you never knew how to release the pain, hurt and disappointment that has been piling up and this poem comes along and gives you the grace and permission to finally let it all go. The poem reminds me of the need for community to share with us those burdens we cannot bear alone and a blessing that can be found in the face of tragedy. They contain powerful words that can soothe the soul, and bring us the peace of mind we need even as we grieve.
It was the Singing It was the singing, girl, the singing, it was that full my throat and blind my eye with sunlight. Parson preach good, and didn't give we no long-metre that day and Judge Hackett make us laugh to hear how from schoodays Gertie was a rebel and everybody proud how Sharon talk strong about her mother and hold her tears. But the singing was sermon and lesson and eulogy and more, and it was only when we raise "How Great Thou Art" that I really feel the sadness and the glory, wave after wave. Daddy Walters draw a bass from somewhere we never hear him go before, and Maisie lift a descant and nobody ask her, but it was the gift they bring., it was what they had to give and greater than the paper money overflowing the collection plate. It was then I know we was people together, never mind the bad-minded and the carry -down and I even find it in my heart to forgive that ungrateful Agnes fir everything she do me and I sing and the feelings swelling in my chest till I had to stop and swallow hard. Then sings my soul, my saviour God to thee, How great thou art, how great thou art... and we was girls again together, Gertie and me by the river, and then the singing was like a wide water and Gertie laughing and waving to me from the other side. Girl, I can't too well describe it. Was like the singing was bigger than all of we and making us better than we think we could be, and all I asking you, girl, is when my time come to go, don't worry make no fuss bout pretty coffin and no long eulogy, just a quiet place where gunman and drug addict don't haunt, and if they sing me home like how they sing Gertie I say thank you Jesus, my soul will sleep in peace.
Tired Soul Eyes transfixed I have seen it all. fight I must though I am broken. When did light stop shining? Slowly every so slowly the East becomes the West Day becomes night and hope loses it flavour. like sand bag that looses it essence I too am left empty unable to stand. So here I will rest until I am able to make it home...