My flight got delayed and I’m now in the midst of an 8-hour layover. I thought I’d pass the time recording a couple of poems here in the middle of the terminal.
#1 oh my love, there are now over 8 billion of us here who are wearing skin over our shimmering stardust forms and despite the arrogance of a few of our fellow stardusters none of us are actually from here this is not our home this is not our home this is not our home my love, we are dandelions that grew on this green lawn only after our seeds blew in on the breeze where did we come from? I can't really remember - but I don't think that place was our home either and someday when these costumes we are wearing start to wrinkle and warp our shimmering stardust will spill out through our fading skin ~ and we will become cosmic seeds again ~ and the wind will take us somewhere new this is not our home this is not our home this is not our home ~maybe we will never actually have a home ~maybe we are built to keep wandering ~maybe we are here to travel across the universe ~ maybe we are made to see it all - every inch of creation ~maybe we are crafted to be endless travelers ~maybe death is a roadtrip across the cosmos and if I get taken to the next new world by the breeze before you are I'll scout a new location where our roots can get all tangled up together again in the fertile purple alien soil this is not my home this is not my home this is not my home ~ but you are, my love no matter where I go next you are my home you are my home you are my home #2 someone just told me to "pull myself together" and I immediately started laughing because I'm not that person anymore there is nothing to put back the pieces are are all lost and I have no interest in finding them ever again do snakes try and slip back into their freshly shed skin? ~ my strings have been cut ~ the mask has fallen off ~ my disguise is on the bedroom floor I'm walking around in only my cozy socks this is my only magic trick: to joyfully deconstruct right in front of you and now leaning into a version of myself that I was made to be so long ago ~ self-loved unafraid ~ singing and a whirling witness to the miracle of creation as I wear nothing but my birthday suit finally unclothed finally unleashed finally unfolded finally unashamed finally understood finally finally finally ~ naked and ready to skinny-dip under a blazing moon (Art by the fabulous Kat Fedora Artist )
8-hour layover poetry