Even a full moon
Majestic, Proud
Can be all consumed
By a dark cloud....

To medicate or meditate
Perhaps both would be nice
But if only one path I may take
I think meditation will suffice

I listen to the way you lie to me,
the voices in the windchill,
the lapping of long waves against a distant shore,
the wails of ghosts far from home,
and I think about it
about us;
about you;
about me.

What does it say
that I have missed every single opportunity I have ever been given
and directed so much anger--
so much bitterness
at myself
that I can only ever be tired?

I listen to to the wind in leaves,
the wailing of trees,
the moaning of old beams,
the sound of water dripping into a bowl,
and the answer.

I listen to the answer.
I listen to the answer.

This will be the winter of my contentment
I will shed regret and resentment
I will finally get it
I will not forget it
I will shred this narrow point of view
This prism of individuality
It’s a prison in reality
The world is a superorganism in totality
I see intersectionality and finally find sanity
My mind is now a GoPro
I can view my life in slow-mo
This is not the Truman Show
This is real, I can feel it
As this film reel flies by
I steal a glimpse with these two eyes
Before I meet my demise I will run with these two thighs
I will squat 5 plate, I will lose some weight
I will choose my fate
Lighter than a feather because I have come untethered
I float high among the weather, never weathered
Renewed by cleansing rains
You may call them hurricanes
But that is a matter of perspective
Positivity is infective
So I will spread a vibrant virus
From the Pope to Miley Cyrus
I say nope to the winter blues
This is the winter that I choose
To sway to and fro with the flow
To gratefully frolic in the snow

Who a deaf ear, a blind eye turn,
The chance to speak against wrong spurn,
By their inaction, their silence,
Guilty are in every sense.