8-hour layover poetry

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 )