Vulnerability
A crack down the center, where the light gets in.
A delicious restraint, of the known,
to allow space for the unknown,
To surprise her.
To fill her…
She stopped her familiar, just enough, to let Spirit in.
And afterwards, she doubted herself:
“I should have said that clever thing!”
Shown off my expertise
Dazzled him with my storytelling,
Revealed how interesting I truly am.
Aroused respect and sympathy for the tribulations he’d never guess I’d overcome.
Defied his expectations.
Then, maybe, he’d still be here.
But then, something magical would not have happened.
There is something more powerful
Then presenting one’s “best self,” in predictable ways
To lock in security
Which is that, you are not changed.
You are not touched by the hand of God.
You do not allow space for something Holy to happen,
Beyond your expectations.
So instead, I come to you as nothing.
Project onto me what you will, if you do.
Instead of trying to prove myself to you,
I am waiting to see if you hear it too…
If you feel it too…
…The unmistakable note of God’s violin, playing down between us.
Their relationship was a triad: her, him, and God.
No decision was made without the third.
They deferred to God.
There is something more sacred to tune in to, than the known.
It is the space of infinite possibility… of quantum possibility.
Where I leave at the door all of me that I think I know
And step in to the unknown, before you.
Let myself be seen, and let myself experience being the unknown,
Without all the dependable dressings and polyester flowers,
The adornments, and the things I cling to.
I come to you, only a pinpoint interface of all that walks with me.
My small self wants to tell you of the mountains that made me,
Where my people came from…
Of their glorious migrations with the sun on their faces…
I want to impress upon you the beauty and bigness from which I come…
Of the deaths I have defied,
Testaments to my character…
I want to validate myself before you
And show off the beauty of everything in my wings
So you’ll say, “I want to taste that world!”
But it is impossible that others know all of what makes us
They will never know our whole story
And isn’t that beautiful?
Its entirety is only ours to know.
And this forces us, to live in the present.
To discover a new beauty, not yet known.
Not cling to scripts of the past,
But to create entirely new akashic records,
To create entirely new Creation.
I do not wish to regurgitate my story
I am tired of my mind
And maybe without all my qualifications on display,
you will pass me by…
That is the risk.
But then, you were not meant for me.
I no longer wish to convince people,
Of the light inside me.
I will still be here,
Waiting for those who have ears to hear,
The unmistakable,
Violin stroke of God.