What I am not in this world....
I am not hot summer days and beer and barbecue festivals and hot concrete steaming up piles of garbage.
I am not bleachers and banners and face paint spilled mustard and screaming touchdowns and goals.
I am not neon lights and packed bars and crowded bodies bending in and out of twerking buns and candied liquor shots.
I am not house parties with hipster clicks and selfies for something to prove that I belong.
I am not cool kids in the cool bars and overpriced concoctions and the wavering eyes needing a sense of society’s praise.
I am not the charmer or the jest .
I am certainly not fake compliments.
I am not hip hop and the thudding boom and strobing lights and vodka stained sticky floors.
I am not pool parties and top 40 over Bluetooths sitting on a cooler of bud light.
I am not the giant outdoor concert, the sweaty backs and fronts of elbows and hips colliding into screaming heads.
I am not a cow in the evolution of the human herd.
I am not motorcycles and loud mufflers and LED lights and flashing billboards.
I am not envy of your flashy money.
I am not Black Friday or church Sunday.
I am not smiling for you or you......or you.
I am not the sunrise’s insistence.
I am not morning birds and barking dogs.
I am not screeching babies, photos of your sucker-covered 5 year old or a gossiping ear.
I am not the whimsy, the elite, the center needing attention.
I do not pretend.
I will not meet your eyes until I know you are real.
I am not going to be what you want me to be for you to feel more comfortable.
But what I am.......
I am the double rainbow after a desert storm.
I am the wind rustling over the treetops.
I am the shadows of clouds dancing loftily over the earth.
I am the sunlight spreading its fingers in sparkling rays upon the soft red pine floor.
I am minor keys and the gentle piano whispers waxing and waning, tipping and toeing.
I am wind chimes and newly warmed wax and flickering flames.
I am that moment when one looks out the car window and caresses the passings-by of color and light in an almost reverie.
I am an acoustic guitar softly strummed on creaky front porches and feathers and daydreams.
I am still in mind and soul and moment.
I am a woman who falls for a woman, plunging off cliffs into the great heart’s unknown.
I am drifting into stars and deep white snow drifts.
I am rain drops on the windows, the ivy over stone, the orange crackle of a winter fire.
I am both firmly rooted into the cold ground and yet still soaring in the warmth of the moonlit dreams.
I am the soft stones in creeks worn well by time.
I am the Milky Way in the desert sky.
I am the vibrations of the symphony hall in the form of the chill that just sprinkled a spine.
I am the hawk, the curious feline, the calling blue whale.
I am the sunset, I am warm worn leather, I am that playful ray of sunshine peeking through the curtains.
I am the specks that float in its wake like thousands of tiny seahorses dancing in its glory.
I am the little girl in the woods who sings to her trees.
I am the white light of the moon that soaks the endless snow covered mountains and endless pines.
I am neither here nor there.
I am both here and there.
I am the gentle brushing of fresh paint, the worn path through deep woods, the sway of her branches against the fall breeze.
I am quiet, I am bare.
I am a chronic daydreamer.
I’ll never be anything less or anything more.
