kindred

Published in the first REZ E-Reader by Sullivan Street Press, featuring the writers who presented their work at the relaunch of REZ Reading Series at Odradeks in Kew Gardens.

kindred
(for b., and inspiration)

wild hearts
have a way
of recognizing
one another
palms singed
from holding
tight to startrails
spaces between
bones
overgrown
with questions
muscles bruised
from loving
too hard,
from being
too hard –
our ache
is what makes
us kindred
passion so full
it’s sometimes
painful,
we know –
souls cracked
open and
stretched like
wings
ever-willing to
take
the sun-seared
risk
because
the endless searching
has a point
in that

it’s

e n d l e s s –

so

let me tip over my
hourglass
i want to be kept
alight by
the words
beating like
fireflies
longing to describe
the
resonance
of you
who –
i’m certain –
if i paused
this poem
on the edge
of a cliff –
could inscribe
the next line
into the rock,
bare-handed,
before
leaping out
into the
boundless
once again..
freedom,
true freedom,
is about
the questions we ask
even more than
the answers
we receive –
the perspective shift
that allows us to
ask not
of the heavens
how steep is the incline?
how dangerous?
how long to
the summit?
but instead –
what will we learn
from the journey? and
how beautiful is the
view
once we get there?
bravery
casts tall shadows
on the walls of
wild hearts,
lit by flames
we sometimes wish
didn’t burn
so brightly,
flickering ferocious
on the inside
of our eyelids,
the hazy
ruminations
masquerading
as sleep..
we are always
wandering,
wondering,
readjusting our
grasp –
but to you
i say,
clench that fist
around this
knowing
and don’t let go –
you will never see
the brilliance
of any sunrise
if your passions
aren’t keeping you
awake..
these passions –
snapping off
memories like
twigs from trees
mad and violently
joyous
roaring, swirling,
dancing,
running down
the hallways
twisting through
your head,
knocking on all
of the doors ¬–

yes,

you will never
truly
know yourself
if you don’t stop
to ask
what the
wildness
inside you
really
means.