Where is this, Temperance?

Where is this, Temperance?

Where is this, Temperance?
For I can no longer feel my feet within this deep dark mud
Instead, long awaited roots anchoring into the soil.

Where is this, Temperance?
When the storms blow in,
Where I was one to whirl up in the chaos
I bend with ease through the toil,
As if I were only in a breeze.

Where is this, Temperance?
I don’t feel I have gone anywhere
and yet I grow.
Growing up, you say, Temperance?
Growing strong?
Setting my roots and allowing the storms that have passed to water my soul?
So, that I may know myself deeper
and stand in truth, firmly?

So this is where, Temperance?
This is I, this is me, this us, this is we
Always growing…                                                                                                                                                                                                           Yet always where we are meant to be.




A heart is like a Phoenix
Bursting into flames to be reborn
Lifting from the ash slightly closer to its purpose
A little further down the path of its quest.

A tear is like a storm
Waiting to wash away the ashes
Yearning to water the trees of our soul
So we may grow upward and proud

A soul is like a deep warm wind
Circling through the chasms of our thoughts
Whipping through our bones
Challenging us to live!

A death is like a life
Eternally in a state of ending
Eternally moving toward the beginning
Reminding us our present is precious


Plastic Plants

Plastic Plants

The day you realize this life has been lived inside of a snow globe.
The white confetti falls all around,
But nothing absorbs into you.
The day you realize the plants are plastic and they’ll never really grow.
Though you had hoped.
Or was that disillusion?
Nothing but a waste of time.
Nothing but a waste of water.
And now we know the world is all glass walls and fake greenery,
And we finally feel the air inside the tiny glass world getting thinner.
As we press our hands and faces to the edge of this life of facades,
It becomes numbingly apparent we placed ourselves here…
Inside this dome lies.
But at least here, when the snow falls, it doesn’t weather the flowers.
They never feel a thing
And neither do we.


Don’t Prove me Right

Don't Prove me Right

Don’t prove me right:
I realize this situation is extremely ambivalent,
But choices can be made,
And with the destruction of every world
A new, different world is born.

Don’t prove me right:
All faith will be lost,
But not in you.
Faith that I’ll never find worth in something not broken.

Don’t prove me right:
Get off the floor.
Pick up the pieces.
You are not broken, unless you choose to be.
It’s all a choice.
There are no forever’s.

Don’t prove me right:
I am not broken,
Not anymore.
I just look for pieces to pick up and put together.

And in the end?
Tons of little broken bits,
And none of them fit together.
When boredom sets in they’ll get thrown back to the shore…
And so will you.

Don’t prove me right.