I am as true as the trees, As wild as the beasts, Fluid like a river, Picking up speed, I am as gentle as the breeze, As violent as poison in the snakes teeth, Simultaneously I am the remedy, I am as destructive as a volcano When the earth quakes beneath Yet as resilient as the land it eats, Regrowing as if in eternal reach To be as sure as this moment, As ethereal as the air we breath, Out into the cold where it can freeze I am the fire warming you with it’s heat Burning holes through your shoes and into your feet, Savory, as salty as meat A flesh hungry savage tangled up in your sheets, I am honey suckle sweet, Sending shocks through your cheeks, And the shivers down your spine, When your fingers weave I am the butterflies, The beetles and the bees I am, as you, as all things be, Undefinable definitely

I am as true as the trees, As wild as the beasts, Fluid like a river, Picking up speed, I am as gentle as the breeze, As violent as poison in the snakes teeth, Simultaneously I am the remedy, I am as destructive as a volcano When the earth quakes beneath Yet as resilient as the land it eats, Regrowing as if in eternal reach To be as sure as this moment, As ethereal as the air we breath, Out into the cold where it can freeze I am the fire warming you with it’s heat Burning holes through your shoes and into your feet, Savory, as salty as meat A flesh hungry savage tangled up in your sheets, I am honey suckle sweet, Sending shocks through your cheeks, And the shivers down your spine, When your fingers weave I am the butterflies, The beetles and the bees I am, as you, as all things be, Undefinable definitely

SELF

Dancin’ to my own Vibrations

The air was sour, bitter and frigid.  It was brittle, broken with ease,  It’s sharp edges carving down my spine, making me ridged.  But my exhale, warm and sweet,  Nectar from my lips persuading what was ice to be liquid,  Insisting space for my energy  To be malleable and translucent                                                                                                                                                                              ~Meg Waddington

The air was sour, bitter and frigid.

It was brittle, broken with ease,

It’s sharp edges carving down my spine, making me ridged.

But my exhale, warm and sweet,

Nectar from my lips persuading what was ice to be liquid,

Insisting space for my energy

To be malleable and translucent

~Meg Waddington

FAST

The last moment passed, I thought I saw it move by, but it stood still as I was going fast.  This second I blinked twice, the wind makes my eyes tear up and almost cry as if I missed life.  The next minute Isn’t here yet but in my head I am in it. I am, but there is no saying I will be.  I am not quite ready, but I am already falling at paces controlled by the weight of me,  no thanks to gravity.   

The last moment passed, I thought I saw it move by, but it stood still as I was going fast.

This second I blinked twice, the wind makes my eyes tear up and almost cry as if I missed life.

The next minute Isn’t here yet but in my head I am in it. I am, but there is no saying I will be.

I am not quite ready, but I am already falling at paces controlled by the weight of me,

no thanks to gravity.

 

SNAILS

Do you remember the first time you saw a snail? Maybe you were 4 years old and laid yourself flat to be on the same level as this tiny creature, and at this perspective you realized that you were huge. With your now giant hands you reached and grabbed her shell, lifted its slimy drooping body, and with widened eyes you zoomed in on its detail. It was incredible, like nothing you've ever seen. How could such a creature exist along side you? So fragile and limited; slow and weak. How did it get here and how far did it travel? Why did it travel so far? You come to the conclusion that she was hungry because she was SO close to reaching the grass. You "Hansel and Gretal" a trail of grass across the 7 inches of asphalt the little snail has yet to travel, as if to affirm her that her travel has been worth it. You made no lasting difference because two hours later the small snail was hit by a car, not to your knowledge, but alas, it was. It is not the results of the moments you've had that make the moments worth while, it is the moments themselves. 

Do you remember the first time you saw a snail? Maybe you were 4 years old and laid yourself flat to be on the same level as this tiny creature, and at this perspective you realized that you were huge. With your now giant hands you reached and grabbed her shell, lifted its slimy drooping body, and with widened eyes you zoomed in on its detail. It was incredible, like nothing you've ever seen. How could such a creature exist along side you? So fragile and limited; slow and weak. How did it get here and how far did it travel? Why did it travel so far? You come to the conclusion that she was hungry because she was SO close to reaching the grass. You "Hansel and Gretal" a trail of grass across the 7 inches of asphalt the little snail has yet to travel, as if to affirm her that her travel has been worth it. You made no lasting difference because two hours later the small snail was hit by a car, not to your knowledge, but alas, it was. It is not the results of the moments you've had that make the moments worth while, it is the moments themselves.