DRUID
Cover art by Karli M. Rogers
For all grieving souls seeking rebirth
Chapter One
The passage of Time has left me sculpted.
I stand tall, straightening my hips,
I am grounded.
Her winds cut into me.
…
I’ve got ash on me,
Black stains like grief.
Fallen leaves crunch under feet.
Heaven’s angels watch over me, mama pleads.
Mama pleads,
Salvation on the other side of the feast,
Did you eat?
No,
I’m trying to figure out what it means to be me.
Permanent in my impermanence;
I’ll be dust by the time I sleep.
…
You need a little history to start with.
The way I learned it, like playing cards,
This is the hand I was dealt.
What can I do about it?
Forgiveness doesn’t live here.
I’m trying something new so I’m a bit slow to speak up—
I cannot grow this way.
I learned many lessons.
I promise I am learning still.
It doesn’t have to be that hard
To love you better, not just how you were told.
Under heavy scrutiny from my eyes,
Funeral pyre—
Burning history I grieve for ages.
Is that how you were taught?
Bury your dead I’m not judging,
Just observing the history of things.
Put my name to the flame
So I can be reborn.
Scorch the earth,
To hell with the living.
I stare into the flames prepared and step in—
To feel the weight of my name catch flame,
Kerosene symphonies, my self-immolation.
I burned for days.
For what do we endure?
Why do we suffer patiently?
Many don’t know the words crafted out of my throat;
Sheet music like spoken languages,
This death rattle I spit up—
…
Chapter Two
I’m speaking.
On tippy toes, I’m dancing.
Hold me lightning.
Symphonies sent,
I store them in my fingertips
So I don’t spark another,
I swallow.
Would you, if you were hurting?
Lightning in a bottle with a cap on it,
I didn’t take it personally.
I was learning,
Do what you want to.
Pinched lightning up the nervous system,
This trembling,
I’m keeping small things alive.
I can hear the thunder roar,
Warm waters churning in my stomach;
Gargling up symphonies.
This trembling is
Pinched lightning up the nervous system,
I’m keeping small things alive.
So I don’t spark another
I’ll swallow it.
Crawling out from beneath my skin like hibernation.
I’ve been down for too long,
The lights were off,
I’m still praying.
Hear me speak—
Dew drops on leaves;
Just grace.
I didn’t take it personally.
I was learning,
How to craft the notes on my vocal cords,
How to speak again.
Embedded codes in the spark of my soul
Set aflame, found in the symphonies of grace and praise,
Musical like ballets, spiritual like resurrections—
Sent like arrows,
Pain can be beautiful—
I’ll show you how.
Ballet in the night,
Pick up the pieces in the morning
With bare hands holding precious memories;
Fragments of stained glass.
I dip my feet into constellations.
On tippy toes dancing,
I can hear the thunder roar!
Rebirth in the storm,
Let the wild roam,
Dancing onwards to symphonies of grace and praise.
My body feels like home.
I can’t keep my jubilance small,
Lungs bursting open.
May my soul soar.
Could you spare me a moment of your time—
I’m speaking up.
***
Chapter Three
I wish to be burned alive by love.
Turn the heat on,
Your caution is cold.
If I’m the only spark that’s burning,
Throw me into the waters.
Let my ashes dance among the waves;
Dust scattered in the wind.
Break me down into my basic elements,
Then rain.
Nourishing the earth until I split it open,
Crawling out from beneath the hills
Where giants are resting.
The past lives on for most,
Nestled in the valleys where the dark creeps.
I’m pushing up.
When I heave my body out from the dirt,
Tell the sun to send embers.
I reach for the scorching heat.
Let it burn,
I revel in the sensations.
Send flames.
I’ve been down for too long,
Chained to the soil like the past below.
Burn the shackles off,
Reduce my bones to ash.
Let me live in the flames.
My spirit filled like flowering meadows soaked in kerosene rain.
Baptize the land in fire,
Fertile soil remains
and out of the ashes…
Chapter Four
Pain.
It is best to leave a little before you’re asked to.
I can see the swirling ether.
Get home soon; winter is approaching.
Just behind my eyes, a storm hid the horizon line,
Creeping forward, in front of us and behind still.
Let me cling here and reside, it begs.
A moist, slippery, damp cloud approaches
Crawling like the roll of the r
Across the fault lines of sorrow—
A tongue above the nape of the neck,
And the body tenses away from an unseen adversary;
A banshee, a wraith, or perhaps an evening prayer.
A shudder remains and it won’t wash off for days,
Maybe even years.
And the slick wet parting smack of the lips,
The twinge above the eyebrow,
Like a needle prick,
And then the needle bent.
Close your mouth; it wants in like a stench.
Lay your head down, pull the needle out,
The hook bent on its way out,
Took a little skin.
The price I pay
To be just like you.
Stuck in cycles,
Trying to be,
Just like you.
There’s a wolf in here
Biting heads off in the forest,
Bring them my way when ready.
Send in the hunting parties,
I’m feasting.
I grew up in the trenches,
Needles dip in and out like a pandemic;
Grit my teeth but won’t call it quits.
You think yourself a mighty beast?
Do you think I’m tame?
Come down to the forest,
The dead here reign
Like falling leaves;
I thirst for more time.
Awakening from my deep slumber,
Buried under my skin like hibernation,
My spirit immolates—
The flame bites.
In my jaw,
I crush dreams,
Shatter wings,
When I ballet with the night,
Pick up the pieces in the morning time with bare hands
Holding precious memories like gems.
What remains is your name scattered in the wind;
Ashes.
…
Chapter Five
Dust.
I’ve always felt less than,
Like I was stained and needed to compensate.
Afraid of getting my hands dirtier,
I needed to present my best self but this life is a mess
And I already feel:
There are some stains that won’t wash off,
Buried in my psyche,
Nutrient-rich and blossoming.
Baptize me in fire
So this land becomes fertile.
Start with the crown of my head.
I have been treading turbulent waters,
I don’t know how to swim.
Holy thoughts keeping me afloat.
When I reach out I transcend,
I hear my mother’s prayers:
She asked, Baby, why are you drowning?
Don’t you know angels have wings?
I asked:
Then what is this ball and chain?
She replied,
Oh honey,
That’s a lantern so you can guide others to grace.
Others? I asked.
She pointed,
I turned my head.
Behind me
Clambering in the waves,
Lost soldiers—
Some had been left for dead.
They reach out and grab hold,
Pulling me down into the depths.
Momma, I’m drowning,
Send help.
She said,
You haven’t even opened your mouth yet.
Finally,
I opened up
And said, enough.
Swallowing the waters, becoming dust.
***
Chapter Six
Some loss is only natural.
Cut through dead leaves and weep,
Not everything makes it through the seasons.
Don’t leave rotting limbs hanging on,
Cut them off at the node.
I’ve seen new growth from parts exposed.
***
The truth is, I don’t like to be down for too long.
It doesn’t rest well with my soul,
But I like to simmer on low till the flavor soaks.
The alternative is bursting into flames through self-immolation—
I just can’t keep my jubilance small.
Sifting heat through open pores,
My restrained awakening in small spaces—
Thin veins split open,
Windows shattered,
Broken glass like fallen stars.
Will I,
Shift the tides on my arrival?
Stones thrown across stagnated waters rinse the murk off the passage of time.
Sailing through the night until I take the plunge under,
And let time melt my skin into praise.
These are my holy days.
Watch me
Flung against the waves, until I am
Carried over the horizon line,
And thrown back into the wind like seedlings
Searching for sacred spaces,
In which to land gently in and blossom.
Mother trees whisper about grief to me
So, I settle into the valley.
Here we call it the Trenches
So, I went searching through the hilltops.
Dear friends,
Beloved and betrothed,
Make your way back home.
When the leaves begin to fall
Keep the candlelight glow,
I’m in need of the heat.
Drenched in rain from billowing storms I’ve weathered against—
Just me and my soul—
Wildfire from dim embers,
I’m melting like wax.
Ripping feathers from my back,
Wings I grew in the dark;
When morning comes I’m grounded.
Crawling out from underneath my skin,
Cutting through the dirt like wildflowers,
Rose petals blossom from the sky.
My chest is light,
Rising out of the ashes like the cadence that set me ablaze.
Not a stain on my skin when I rose up.
How do we make better decisions more quicker?
***
Chapter Seven
I’m showing you what’s already there,
Grief and inspiration are simple elements of this planet.
I carry on because I have to.
I know the angels have much more to teach me,
But I too, tire of all the lessons.
Not all of us are angels, but I still am; Blessed Kin.
The size of the flame is the same weight in ash, I know that.
At times I have not minded.
Keeping my flame small but burning brightly,
Pulled back against waves of night and day
Is a lantern, like a ball and chain.
I have been incubating a weak flame,
Encased in dark nights, cold weather;
Hail, rain, and sleet—symphonies with the seasons,
Vivid colors trapped behind stone walls,
Raging rapids—
My flame doused in,
Misery and Sorrow,
Anguish and Agony.
Pour it on like kerosene and set my soul ablaze.
If that’s the price of living for better days,
I’ll dream while I’m awake.
Throw my body into the flames.
I dip in and out of dark waves like a stone skipped
Over a black lake; I’m coasting.
Too precious,
Be gentle with the names of angels,
Wings like stained glass windows.
If my arc sent me crashing
May I wipe out only demons,
When I send it like ballet with the night,
Pick up the pieces in the morning time with bare hands
Holding precious memories like gems;
Stars in the night sky—
Constellations in my cup of praise.
***
Chapter Eight
Some people don’t know that they are angels.
Whole psalms are contained in rejoicing letters of their name.
I have spent my time around angels and here’s the thing,
I do not believe them to be rare.
Only the conditions:
The alignment and the understanding,
That you are with an angel or meeting with one at the right time,
When eyes are open wide enough to see wings in vivid colors.
I keep my eyes open in reverence,
Observing the vibrant dance of hues along the strings of the planet—
Dappled sunlight through the forest,
And the vocal cords of angels sound like musical notes.
Some people don’t know.
Whole psalms are contained in the letters of their name.
I’ve met angels not quite ready to sing their good graces.
Save their names until last.
Keep your light dim.
I understand this.
Some do it on purpose because they understand,
Stones thrown across ponds,
Ripple out from where they land, shatter glass,
And shift the tides upon their arrival.
Most angels, like the ones that you see every day, can’t fly.
Not without support or knowing enough
But all are known to lift a chest from off the floor
And can be light on their toes, even when lifting from the legs.
And, when straining to reach has your fingertips less than inches away,
Suddenly hands found grasping—
Dancing with celestial bodies with a firm grip,
A handshake, resting on the shoulders of crumbling giants,
Or pressed against the backs of tiring angels we call ancestors.
The moon and all the planets sometimes align for a season,
Sending or perhaps blocking divine energy.
Divinity at the right degree to keep organic blessings growing in due time,
Only when ready,
Instead of burning away, blooming too quickly—
Some leaves won’t make it;
Lost soldiers cradled in the nighttime.
Some angels don’t have wings visible in the daylight.
They shattered before dawn.
The heat of the sun, heavy on their shoulders,
Keeping lost soldiers marching on through the haze.
Still, the body remains patient for the cool breeze
With the arrival of sunsets on coastlines,
And the sound of garden leaves during a torrential downpour;
Tiny needle points.
When jubilation of my own accord comes from the breaking of bones to fight forward,
I cut through dead leaves like the breeze and weep.
My spirit caught up in music,
Putting bellows to the fire using my initials,
In between the letters, dim embers,
Gently blown over.
I’ve seen enough.
Others in power, revolting.
I won’t speak too harshly,
If there are fewer letters,
They are heavier.
I open instead
To the melodic whispered alignment of my notes.
When rays of daylight burn
I carry a cold chain.
In the nighttime, I'm holding onto
All that I have loved in the daylight;
Precious memories,
Low tones in warm summer notes, a quick rain, like strumming instruments,
Or winter’s chorus of ice and wind;
My name, baptized in the roll of my body crashing into the waves;
Ballet in the rain.
…
This love is free—
Burn the temple away.
I pirouette in puddles, skip on the edge of oblivion,
I look up to Heaven’s Gate, reflecting the cosmos.
When I look back down
It’s the same.
Here in the trenches, we call it praise,
The blood of your enemies slain.
My demons fall by the hour.
I douse their grief against my flames
Burning night away until no more willpower remains,
Legs heavy,
Ankles taut,
My eyes bloodshot.
I haven’t seen sleep in days,
Carrying this lantern like a ball and chain…
***
Now weightless,
Filled up with never more than I can carry.
Water in my lungs,
And the lantern’s flame is a thin majestic line;
My last nerve stretched taut.
Some days muscles ache,
Some days my lungs open up and I am bursting with psalms
Sent like downpours to douse the flames before I self-immolate.
I have been keeping myself small.
But now I think:
If the match is lit,
Burn it all away,
Send waters like kerosene symphonies.
Endure the simple redirection,
Do not go that way.
There are fires all around us;
Burning angels
Swept up in the current of best wishes;
Blessings sent like crashing waves,
Give it a few seasons, and rebirth will revisit like spring.
Tender vigilance for what comes next.
Don’t let the stain set in.
Wipe it away before the fabric remembers.
I’ll never forget the heave of my body pulled out of the lake.
***
Chapter Nine
To become self-sufficient
I burned a couple of bridges.
I was in the middle of raging rapids
When the bridge caught aflame,
Set ablaze from my self-immolation.
Teach me how to swim
Before I take the plunge under
Crashing waves intent on extinguishing my brighter days.
But this heat evaporates,
And I am thrown against the rocks,
Bruising internal organs,
Staining my skin vivid colors
And these waters won’t wash them away.
It took some time for my body to break,
For my bones to shatter like fallen grace,
Like stones thrown through windows,
Crumbling steeples,
And rays of billowing gold over lush meadows;
I thought I’d never breathe again.
Dragging my body out of the lake with faith
And my nails bent against the mountainside,
Snapping off until my fingertips are raw
And I, heave my mangled body onto the shoreline
Gripping the walls of tomorrow,
Barely alive.
I lay down beside my dreams,
They seep into my pores;
Rain on garden leaves, ushering in understanding.
And all that’s left in me,
A spark for today.
Keeping the heat on
Like a lantern to usher in new seasons.
The steam from my lungs—
Barely managing to open up
—like the bellows, lifting me off the floor.
Gentle notes reconstruct my soul out of hope.
Whispers from my throat crawl out from underneath my old skin.
Like shedding petals, I enter a new season of hibernation,
Where bones are remade stronger from covalent bonds
And pollination from the dust of inspired atoms.
Down for too long,
Whole seasons at a time.
My skin decomposes,
I grow roots from out of my spine.
Pushing up through twisted thoughts,
Dancing on timelines;
Every match that burns,
A bridge lit—
I douse in living,
Still crawling out of my prison.
…
Chapter Ten
Every night my back bent against the elements.
Crawling out of my prison in the morning
With twisted limbs, aching to stretch up
Like the necks of stems flowered,
Reaching for rays straight out of Heaven’s Gate.
Give me enough time to get my nerves up
And scream for relief.
Learning to blossom in the nighttime,
And at the right time,
Dig my way out from inside this shell
And out from underneath this heavy blanket;
The weight of keeping my light dim
So I don’t wake up in the shape of frail, withered creatures;
Crushed dreams seeking inspiration.
Straighten up until I remain
Aligned in my waking steps,
With outstretched arms
Like I’m bigger than them—
Like I can’t be contained.
And out I pour—
Every twist and flick of the wrist
Over white sheets,
Stacked paper,
Signing my name,
Shifting bones within fragile beings;
Searching for the precarious balance of hips and wings
Between shoulder blades,
Toes gripping the earth.
The cadence of my chest lifted with ambition—
Lighter days elongate the spine, stretching time.
I feel my temple rise even when I’m sleeping,
Filled up with praise and bloodlines
Flowing effortlessly through the gratitude of my open veins.
…
Chapter Eleven
Symphonies of grace and praise,
Because we know rebirth is contained in the fingertips of your touch,
We’ll run,
Clutching at embers;
Burning at the degree of heat,
Flames of your choosing,
Contributing to the ends of your enemies.
Say the words.
Bones crushed into fine dust
And then the name swept away.
May yours remain, poetically placed
In the shelter of the tips of our vocal cords in sacred spaces.
I’ve seen your wings;
Stained glass in vivid colors cradled in grace,
Keeping me believing in warm-lit summer-speckled memories,
And nighttime is featherweight to dance with.
Raging embers doused against
The tip of the whip,
The snap,
The wick-licked bounty,
The rebirth of spring,
And the roll of the r across the fault lines of Sorrow;
Heat memorized in intimate parts.
Symphonies,
The praise of today and tippy-toes painted,
Dipped in grace.
Writing my name in the heave of today’s weight,
Feathers dipped in black ink,
Singing.
The crest of the wave gliding over the page,
Heavy on the heads of the misaligned,
Delicately placed on the knowledge of yesterday.
Baptize me in living—
Etch the shape of my name across my spine
In the tenderness of rising again over the arc of 3 a.m.—
Stones skipped in jubilation,
Drawing constellations in the night,
Light on the horizon,
Ballet on the threads of tomorrow;
Nights spent reaping what I sow.
I wake,
Just before dawn and watch the rise of the sun plunge off the hilltops.
Deep shadows soak back into the valleys,
Rolling thunder drips rose petals,
Soaked in the candlelit soft glow of my name.
Warm moonlight—bathing in stillness,
Every moment stretched,
Taut in my ankles,
Relaxed in the flutter of an eyelash
Kissed and blown away by an angel’s whisper.
I’ve seen grace,
Stained glass in vivid colors.
Pick up the pieces in my hands to hold precious gems,
The universe and red rose petals blossom
Out of the cascading melodies found in the tips of my fingers;
The spark, the flame, and the symphonies of grace and praise.
***
Chapter Twelve
The universe is waiting to see how much you’ll take
Before you drown.
You haven’t had enough yet.
Bend and break, time and time again.
The universe cares.
It wants to recycle your nutrients back into the planet.
I think that counts as… it wants you dead.
But the life in you demands,
I’ll sleep when I am dead.
A moment of rest to fill the holes in my head from unanswered questions.
How am I going to make it through the day again?
And where is peace when I am shattered pieces?
But after sunset, when the day ends, I am
Put back together again, and rejoicing for it.
I thought I was broken, but tomorrow
One day stronger,
One day more than I ever thought I would make it.
Through challenge,
Remain triumphant.
Wildfire from dim embers;
Rebirth on the horizon,
You don’t understand, but you remain.
***
Trapped in my body and floating away,
Coasting over dark waves,
A rough stone skipped over a black lake reflecting the cosmos above.
When I land, I dip into the stars before skipping onward—
A graceful arc in the night.
Be still, my fragile heart,
Anticipating the drop—
The hard stop,
And the drowning for days.
Keep it light and airy,
Give me buoyancy.
Thermal vents, warm fingertips against my skin,
Pressed tenderly against my back,
Lifting me up, through the murk.
I’m reaching for the skies above, my lungs bursting.
I've been down for too long, mingling with the stars.
Fling me back up to draw constellations in the night,
Etching my name like the tip of the pen
Scattered over the page, give me a twirl so I write in cursive,
Catch my wings and send me dancing;
Ballet across the waves.
Be still,my fragile heart,
Anticipating the drop—
The end of the sentence,
The birth of chapters and falling faster,
And the winds plucked the words right out my chest and left me breathless;
A graceful arc, weightless in the dark,
Be still, my fragile heart.
Close my eyes and glide,
Lift these teardrops from off my cheeks,
The twinkling of my dreams.
I am trapped today,
Remembering the pressure of water on my chest,
My toes skim the surface of the lake
Like ice skating in the biting winter.
Open my arms wide,
Lift my chest and sweep me off my feet,
My toes, dipping under dark waves.
I’ve been here before.
Pearls of wisdom now a ball and chain locked around my ankle.
Please don’t drag me underneath.
Send a fierce wave of heat
Like a punch to my gut.
Send me back up and let the winds of change shape me
As I pirouette over the crest of yesterday.
Chisel the shape of my soul out of stone,
A smooth pebble skipped over a black mirror.
I dip my feet into constellations.
I take a deep breath and—
—plunge beneath the surface.
Baptize me in living.
Hold me down until my lungs burst,
And my mouth opens up,
And I swallow the ocean.
Warm waters churning
In my stomach,
And out of my mouth,
I speak freely—
The universe pouring out of me in verses;
Simple breathing and rebirth.
***
Chapter Thirtheen
Bring me to the end of things not meant for me.
Take the shackles off my feet.
I have been drowning for too long,
Letting go of dead things,
Thinking heavy thoughts;
Trying to surf these waves,
I have been keeping myself small.
Let them flow through me,
Lift me like wings.
I have been selfish these days,
To build these dreams, sometimes you need to go missing.
Intuition guides me into the spaces where I belong.
I want to feel at home when I step into the unknown.
I want to feel at home when I step out on my own.
I want to feel at home because I am where I belong.
Often feeling;
Unsettled in my bones, like I’m trapped in here.
In previous years, I put the blade to my skin.
Years later, I wrote a note,
My soul, ready to go.
Yet, right before I started my journey,
I unearthed value in me.
Another year later, I started crawling again.
This year I stretched into being.
Last year put the fight in me.
Years later, showing me the alignment of things.
Send shelter—
It's on its way
—I’ll be fearless while I wait.
I’m sending up praise
While blessings pour down like rain—
Black rose petals dripping from the sky.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Certain psalms that I know are embedded codes in the universe.
Listen to the unraveling threads,
Giants plucking the strings of the planet,
Awakening inner mechanics,
In tune with the earth.
I know this song.
I’m going missing to listen to these notes,
Tiny whispers of my soul
Telling me I’ve been here before—
Hold on just a little longer.
Rising out of the dust
Like a ghost called back home.
Stepping into my body—
As if I belong in my vessel,
I’ve been gone for so long
I had to learn how to speak again.
I open my mouth—
Letting pages fly out,
Sheet music like spoken languages.
Can you hear what is written?
Or am I dancing alone?
There are flames behind the steps that I am taking—
Do not waste the inspiration.
Back out of the ashes of my self-immolation,
Searching for the cadence that will set me ablaze again;
Find my rhythm and drown in it.
Plucking future moments into the present,
I’ve been here before, and I was dancing alone.
Following my footsteps into new destinations,
Summoning my patience, persistence, and vigilance.
I’m not home yet,
But I am free.
Keep an eye open for lost souls seeking the combination.
The secrets are not hidden if you know how to pay attention—
Why are you rushing?
Missing all of the details.
Settling down into my body
As if I belong in my vessel,
Making it easier to guide my movements now,
Learning that if I stick around,
Time will tell.
I’m attracting what I seek.
Watching history unravel between my fingertips and beneath my toes,
Playing with codes like musical notes,
Stretching my sound out so even deaf ears hear me now.
This warmth opens doors to locations I have never been to before.
Encouraging myself through the psalms I have written,
The embedded codes of the universe;
Patterns and cycles.
Take notes.
…
Chapter Fifteen
Simple conversation:
What do you feel?
Fragile thoughts still growing.
I dare you to throw them.
Lift my wings as I’m floating,
Tiny whispers from my soul;
I’m alive, but would you pick up shattered glass with your hands?
…
Dark violet treacherous storm,
White-lightning forked,
Show me my arrival.
Startle me out of the fog of long nights;
Shift shape into star-filled skies.
…
The lost echoes are here after taking years to build into a howling wraith;
Winds blown over dust-covered plains,
The chanting of my ancestors;
Garden leaves, heavy rain.
I felt it before,
I can observe it now.
I do not believe it to be rare.
In simplicity, I dig in and exhale.
Summer was a symphony,
Autumn the orchestra,
Winter my conductor,
Spring was the notes
—moonlight shifted my bones.
I dipped my feet into constellations,
Under burning bushes, my body feels at home.
I’ve been here before,
in alignment.
I’ll be here tomorrow.
***
Chapter Sixteen
Morning wakes,
Her winds cut into me.
I am stone, swept up—
Watch out for me.
Before my waking steps
My wings shattered at dawn.
The moon crashed down,
Black rose petals dripped from the sky;
The stars fell out of heaven into the ache of time.
I need support.
My legs carry me only so far.
My feet grip the earth when I walk,
Chains adorn my hips—
Black looping strands of grief
Connecting me to the history of all living things,
Pulling me down into the earth, so I sink.
I am running low on willpower today.
But what about tomorrow, if I may arrive?
Lift me up, oh, sweet hope,
The last to go.
Dear friends, beloved, and betrothed,
Peer into stained glass windows.
Light waves beneath my skin,
Crawl out from underneath.
***
I play with my knowledge,
I shape it.
Take shape again, hidden wonders.
Curious inspirations; unraveling knowing.
Vicious hoping, like fangs, dig in.
Clipped petals, like stains, cloak today
And tomorrow may wash away these visions,
So I paint in yesterday’s teardrops.
This moment I will remember.
I am awoken by spring and dew drops on leaves.
Expansion in me, pushing out toxins from underneath my skin—
Decomposing into constellations,
My roots take.
Our happenings align, regardless of sorrow.
I play with my knowledge,
I shape it.
Our happenings align, regardless of tomorrow.
I play with my knowledge,
I shape it.
***
How do I go up with grace?
It felt possible.
How do I come down less chaotic?
Can lingering grace fall on today?
It felt possible.
…
Chapter Seventeen
Hold on,
Hold on,
Hold on,
Hold on.
Vagabond,
Heavy soul,
Weary bag of bones,
Tired of singing for grace.
Your outlook for better days retreats as you plead
Over dim horizons.
Safety in numbers, you feel nothing.
Brush strokes streak the canvas—
You see no colors.
Violent shadows, pale sunshine.
Hold on, dear child,
You’ve been here before.
You will be here tomorrow.
Just another day till dawn breaks, so they say—
Samsara, samsara,
Desire and karma,
Nirvana: thirst no more.
The cycles of tomorrow beckon you forward,
Losing the battle is only preparation for the war.
Swing your sword and slaughter hordes,
Your demons fall by the hour.
…
Time is moving slowly again.
Forced to sleep while swimming;
Resting bursting lungs,
Hope seems a little further—
I’ll make up the space when I wake,
Running I’d have wings by now.
Pressure underwater,
Dreaming adds new pounds.
Pearls form—
Spoken words bubble up.
Floating iridescent boulders;
Wonders awaiting,
Awakening at the surface.
…
Chapter Eighteen
Listen,
I’m not trying to hurt your feelings when I say this,
But you stay the same.
I need change.
I left my chains behind so I know better days.
Stuck in the same cage,
Cycles; a mental haze,
Restrained, I raged—shackles breaking.
I never wanted it easy,
I needed more clarity;
I trust myself now.
I used to cry in my sleep,
Awakening my wings.
These are my dreams—
My future whispering to me:
I’ll leave you behind
Before I ever let you drag me down to my knees.
You blame things; I blame me
And change like the scenery.
You’re overwhelmed?
Dig in Love,
Know your roots.
I learned how to dance through
Music contained in veins,
Restrained awakenings in small spaces,
This trembling is pinched lighting up the nervous system,
Chest heaving, the soles of my feet kissing earth.
This didn’t happen by osmosis.
I’ve been in the trenches.
I dreamt it, then I built it—
Two hands and a pickaxe.
Time I can’t get back—
Was it worth it?
My dreams are surfacing,
My lungs busting,
May my soul soar.
My feet grip the earth when I walk, but I have wings.
Don’t mock me because I crawl today,
You don’t know the weight.
Darker days blessed me with pain,
Ash and embers,
Dust and sage,
Mud and tear stains caked into my face.
I held rage in the swing of my blade;
I slayed the hermit,
I became the sage with calloused hands
Carrying this grief with ease,
It’s still a ball and chain;
Dragging dead weight—
Will you release me?
Traveling grace—
Lighter every day—
If you stay here, you’ll drown,
Come with me.
Trust,
Escalated quickly, but we’ve been here before.
Dust,
Is all we’ll ever be.
Take my hand.
Blown into the wind,
Rising.
Manifest me like visions escaping into reality,
Chisel me out of stone.
The setting sun,
The colors of our aura—burst free.
I feel the moon reach down, to lift the sun;
Soft light bathing our time on the horizon.
Reach out to me.
Almost free,
Quickening my pace,
I can feel you approaching,
A smile on my face.
Let go of the hurt.
It’s only ever been us against the world and its dirt—
Not a stain on your skin when you rose up.
***
Chapter Nineteen
Pour down on me lovely days,
Twisted energies mixed up in the living.
Flood out of me castles and dreams:
Carve reality out of simple breathing—
I wish to see what it takes to make me break;
Great wave against this shore.
***
Your persistence today was inspiring.
Hold on to the knowledge that you can do this.
You knew triumph before—
You remember the taste,
The exhaled mist of strain,
The ache,
The scream in every reach
—in the fibers of your limbs;
Outstretched and hanging.
These walls will remember your name.
Chipped nails and torn skin,
Bloodstains from broken blood vessels,
And cave paintings;
Mark your spot for today.
Solidify your place in history,
Take this to the grave.
My spirit quakes in anticipation of your return.
You will lift yourself soon.
The alignment of ascending, like floating rain.
Your persistence today was inspiring.
***
I watched spring take this tree and burst free.
Now these leaves decay in glorious rays of heat.
Not defeat,
Another ring; expansion in me,
Pushing out toxins from underneath my skin.
Knowledge,
Soaks in, retracts—
and release;
Let go of dead things.
…
Chapter Twenty
This,
This is the ebb.
Pull on the tides and shift.
Are those the echoes of weeping I hear?
Dust in the water,
Constellations in the sky,
May my drifting align;
Safe refuge.
…
I saw the dust rise up,
I’ll keep us in motion—
Blanket me peace, send willpower, please.
You can find me weeping,
Singing in Eden,
Where honey drips off leaves—
Flowing waters,
Palm trees;
I’m coasting.
I saw the dust rise up,
I’ll keep us in motion.
Blanket me peace—
Send willpower, please.
In the weak of my knees; bones aching.
Carrying my grief in the weight of my wings,
Lost soldiers,
I saw the dust rise up.
I’ll keep us in motion.
Blanket me peace,
In the weak of my knees;
Willpower, please—
I’m not home yet.
I saw the dust rise up.
I’ll keep us in motion,
Blanket me peace,
Send willpower, please.
Drawing constellations,
Inner conversations;
Blanket me peace in the weak of my knees.
Keep moving forward.
Keep moving forward.
Keep moving forward,
Lost soldiers.
Chapter Twenty-One
A rainy day knows the downpour of a billion dancing drops falling home and settling the soul,
And winds that let go soak through the bone
Pulling me forward
One step further, away from the herd;
Marching orders.
Where am I going?
I wish I knew.
Does every raindrop fall true?
If we were to collide in the sky
Would I be absorbed by falling stars or knocked off course?
Will I reside where I fall, or shift tides in my arrival?
Will I land in spaces hollow, a single drop and no flowers?
Do I deserve petals?
What’s a raindrop to a waterfall?
Will I spill over banks? Will I rage in rapids?
Will I be the fine mist of an exhaled last breath?
Will I quench thirst?
Will I be the drop that breaks dams, and rivers burst,
And I chart my course, cutting through red dirt?
Will I follow laughter?
Will I matter?
Will I scream in my release?
Or be the silent tears of sorrow escaping?
Will I speak?
Will I be the drumming rhythm,
The pace of dreams hitting the mountains and streams,
Or will I be the sweat creeping down the backs of old withering beasts?
Will ancient sands remember me long after scorching heat?
What will I be?
Travel is always good for my soul.
These old wounds guide me home,
Cycles with little answers: a rainy day knows…
…
Chapter Twenty-Two
Be still and know
I pray in my poems.
Magnolia Grandiflora,
Spirit victorious;
Hear me speak
Dew drops on leaves,
Just grace.
I ache for more time.
I hurt; I know.
Spread roses,
Soft bellows,
A chorus of words slurred through tears swallowed,
I’m softening—
Symphonies flow.
Magnolia Grandiflora,
Spirit victorious,
Flowers are blooming.
Your heavenly aura glowing, lifting hope.
I know;
Blessings arriving soon.
…
Patience.
Endure!
Patience.
Endure!
Summer heat,
Oppressive weight on my shoulders.
Endure!
When hope can’t hold on any longer,
Endure!
Pressure on the mountains,
Loose boulders crashing below us,
Ancient wonders built over lost soldiers,
Keep marching further,
Over yonder, he wanders—
Patience.
Endure!
…
Give me the patience to witness this becoming of being.
I will not rush.
I craft the notes.
I speak; soul singing—whispers of melodies.
I grow tired of grieving
But celebrating in the rain drops blessings.
I won’t rush these psalms.
I’m still crafting the notes,
Holding the last chorus until bursting lungs.
Let this final scream shake free my wings.
Grieving into the open air stings, but the trees are listening.
Encouragement on the wind,
Dew drops on the leaves I left behind me;
Planted seeds, still growing.
…
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dear Sorrow,
The shattering of my wings is praise;
Music to my name.
Let my dreams fall back on me so I break.
I’ll carry on tomorrow.
Dawn of a new day—
Even sunlight breaks.
Enough for today,
Dear Sorrow.
***
Dear Agony,
Crawling my way out from under desperation
Into the light of the morning,
Growing stronger by the second,
I have been shrinking.
Down in the depths,
I have been screaming.
I have been shrieking, and you held me.
A vice grip, choking my lights out,
I fought back, suffocating.
Tearing my wings away with bare hands,
Clutching razors with my fingertips
Till the blade digs in,
I give you the finger.
I give you my teeth and my tongue
To say enough,
Before I am mangled pieces
Held together by a whisper.
A whisper of my name.
Enough for today,
Dear Agony.
***
Dear Anguish,
Pain can be endless—
It hurts, so I scream.
Eventually, my voice gives out and passes away,
But pain can be endless.
A sharp twist past the ribs,
Everlasting; almost inhumane.
Primal in my being,
Anguish in my veins;
May my name stay.
Seething and delicious,
And one day
In the lull of my senses dull,
I will have no more use for it; but today,
Existing because I say so—in pain,
I will reach out and pluck my name back.
I will swallow it,
Then trample upon the broken bodies of those who seek to feed me more of it,
When I have said enough.
Through open mouth and twisted gut,
Enough.
So this is hurt,
Enough.
Enough for today,
Dear Anguish.
***
Chapter Twenty-four
Muscle aches after a long day
You call it pain,
I’m strengthening.Screaming against this body I’m trapped in,
Aching for freedom, stretching limbs.
Pouring out broken parts of me—
Through cracks, and seams, and haunting memories;
Ignorance and understanding;
No one makes it out alive.
Do caterpillars know they have wings?
Do the dead still sing?
I hear the cymbals of spring
And summer is a symphony.
Chaotic chorus splitting trees with a verse,
And knees quake after squatting in the dirt,
But I’m standing, rain-drenched and muddy.
I’m yearning for who I’m becoming.
The chrysalis can’t come with us.
Love says:
Let me be rough.
Muscle aches after a long day;
You call it pain.
I’m strengthening.
***
Chapter Twenty-four
Muscle aches after a long day
You call it pain,
I’m strengthening.Screaming against this body I’m trapped in,
Aching for freedom, stretching limbs.
Pouring out broken parts of me—
Through cracks, and seams, and haunting memories;
Ignorance and understanding;
No one makes it out alive.
Do caterpillars know they have wings?
Do the dead still sing?
I hear the cymbals of spring
And summer is a symphony.
Chaotic chorus splitting trees with a verse,
And knees quake after squatting in the dirt,
But I’m standing, rain-drenched and muddy.
I’m yearning for who I’m becoming.
The chrysalis can’t come with us.
Love says:
Let me be rough.
Muscle aches after a long day;
You call it pain.
I’m strengthening.
***
Chapter Twenty-five
I like to travel light.
Keep my hands free
To grab onto memories of strange beings reaching out to me,
I
Hold on tight through
Turbulent seas and
Seasons where fingertips bleed,
Muscles aching from the stagnant weight of things left in decay,
I’ll carry this.
Wait
I like to travel light.
The glowing recesses of
Horizons on display,
Keep my hands safe
So my fingers ride great waves of blessings.
This hallowed, cherished being,
I
Stretch into being,
I
Move into being,
I
Like to travel light.
While I reach out through
Purple skies and sunny days
I pen thoughts
And ink bleeds
I
Need a moment to breathe,
This
Halo is dragging me,
I
Need to grieve fallen follicles like leaves and
Autumn is turning new reasons to live—
Just to experience it.
I need it when it floats off my fingertips
I’m pissed, and you can hear it.
You felt it:
The blade sits
The razor slips
The throat sips
The ice on wrists
A brother’s gift
A lover’s kiss
Everlasting wish
The glory of this present moment pissed.
Every memory is so precious.
I want this.
***
Chapter Twenty-six
Too much pressure and I’ll break.
Breaks make me feel lonely
So I just keep working the passing of grief,
Kneading until understanding;
The passage of time has left me—
Sculpted—
Her winds cut into me
So I
Slip through the autumn leaves,
Gale winds prepared to
Sweep me on high through
Dizzying corkscrew.
It matured me,
Faster than most,
Not soon enough—
Swept up.
Found a lump in my throat
Swallowed it whole—
Swept up.
I rose,
Through the breaking of every follicle
Swept up.
***
I feel the trembles of it stir deep,
Hot flash on my skin,
Bare teeth,
Holy sanctuary quaking.
I must be a miracle.
This body is changing,
Birth to visions.
This anger must be holy
It’s real and wafting off my skin like vapor,
Inking free timelines from defeat;
Birth to history.
This grieving must be holy
It’s real,
Suffocating—
Nutrients to nurture the growth of my stretching limbs.
Rolling waves of thunder;
My chanting—it’s real;
My wonder, it’s here.
This strength must be holy, it’s real.
***
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I remember how to dance.
I must have forgotten with you.
Perhaps I fell too stiff,
Perhaps my back ached,
And my ankles were taut,
And my eyes were bloodshot.
Put my soul to rest.
I’ll do the rest.
Dig in love,
No rest.
My chest aching,
Winter’s burn,
I lay out, frozen in a heatwave.
Pave this pavement; cement coffin
I’m softening,
Symphonies flow.
I remember how to dance.
Hymns of hips; quake,
I’m softening—
Unhinging,
Swinging often,
I’m dancing;
Carry me, slow
Shift bones,
I’m softening.
Rivers downpour—
I’m doused in
Whispering winds;
I’m listening.
Symphonies ringing;
Thunderous beatings
The bellows:
Left ventricle,
Right ventricle,
I remember how to dance;
The spirit quakes.
Tremendous tempest;
Reaching heaven’s resting place.
Ancestors wake in my footsteps.
Spiritual guidance,
Angels on high love.
Angels on high.
Mom,
I thought about giving up.
I’m sorry,
I’m fighting,
Aligning my soul—
I’m softening.
A peace offering:
The alignment of things,
You win.
Pull my strings.
Celestial beings guide movements in spring—
Summers raging,
Lighting strikes echoes of distant possibilities.
Cherished Wonder,
Walk between worlds.
Hold your ground—
I’m softening.
Rising heat after rain
Shifting membranes under tectonic plates,
I’m dancing into being;
Plunging my hands into the seams of the universe
Expanding my space in it—
I’m stones floating out of David’s sling;
Choirs sing of deadly accuracy across history.
I’m jubilant,
Slaying giants.
My name on the wind,
Lighting striking twice,
Coming into being;
Jupiter’s awakening.
***
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Anoint me with grief—
Ash on my temple,
Inspiration in my veins.
Clench my jaw,
Grit my teeth,
Too much pressure to remain unchanged.
These are my holy days,
Watch me breaking.
Enemies seething
Seeking wings aching;
Barely breathing,
Cloaked in misery,
Empathy in need.
I see me;
I see me,
Empathy in need,
Cloaked in misery,
Barely breathing.
Seeking wings aching,
Enemies seething.
Watch me breaking;
These are my holy days.
Too much pressure to remain unchanged.
Grit my teeth,
Clench my jaw,
Inspiration in my veins.
Ash on my temple,
Anoint me with grief.
***
In a great forest,
Memories like fallen leaves
Until barren trunks.
Plant seeds,
New green—
Set my growth in motion.
***
Good Grief,
We’re old friends.
Often allowed to stay as long as you need.
Good grief; it needs an invitation to leave.
Green trees,
Winding roads,
Black ink,
Yesterday’s weeping.
Cycles of seasons,
I’ll greet you again.
Today is ending—
A little tired,
Perhaps tomorrow,
But tonight, please go.
***
Come out of me grief.
Thump my chest, hear my heartbeat;
Silent scream, vicious roar.
These momentous trembles quake seeds,
Stir spring and scream.
Come out of me!
Vibrant vocal vibrations
Violently mumbled to massacre multitudes;
Heavy thinks,
Inspiration speaks out of me,
Bleeding ink the color of fallen leaves,
Sinking deep,
Soaking in, so I know:
Regret thee not a single drop.
Come out of me grief.
***
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dear Misery,
Your grief blocks the road,
Today I say no more.
I await you nevertheless, further down,
Watch your steps.
Down on your knees,
Unearth me, sings Misery,
Lend me your company.
Misery, you think me weak.
The name you seek in company remains free;
I refuse thee.
I await you nevertheless, further down,
Watch your steps.
Dear Misery,
Again you speak,
Contemplative quiet
Eloquent in its revelry
Is all that I need.
I await you nevertheless, further down
Watch your steps.
Dear Misery, you are but a piece of a dream—
And I dream
And I dream
And I dream.
Dear Misery,
Your grief blocks the road—
Today I say no more,
I step no longer,
Today,
I soar.
***
Peace of the present moment,
Soak into me;
Unshackled infinite,
Boundless across the heavens.
Grief lives in my temple,
Even my bones are black.
When I dance, I find solace.
I hear your whispers in my ears.
In the language of your lips
I lap languidly.
I drink.
I submerge.
Peace of the present moment,
Soak into me.
***
Chapter Thirty
Fallen ashes,
Or rose petals sent in celebration?
I’m waking up—
Dancing in the light of the morning,
With the wind,
Lifting me onwards.
*** …***...***
Thank you for reading Druid! This autobiographical anthology charts a very personal journey of mine, living with alopecia after my diagnosis at 8 years old. I had to navigate many highs and lows while learning to love myself wholly. The poems contained in this book were written over four years, starting in 2021. I finally allowed myself to grieve the changes I had to accept before I was ready. Druid became an outpour of emotion. I hope that by reading Druid, you can recognize your strength and resilience through every change and season of your life.
Also, a special thank you to my friend Karli M. Rogers for the beautiful cover art!
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