5:30 a.m.

This morning wakes with melancholy.
Her hair teased across the sky,
pink, grays, blue hues,
in strands and tufts.

The moon smirks behind us
and hummingbirds shoot
like stars
through our middle world.

The drum circle of crickets yields
to the first sirens of crows,
and the last owl plays its bass note
oomp….oomp…

Gazing out over
the curve and dip
of ridgeline, seeking the silhouettes
of early hunting coyotes
dotting the open hills
before her fire continues to rise.

And I sit, with the mystic song of coffee
rising up like incense.
Captured in the clear, cool, sweetness of air.
Simply bewitched,
as a trail of sparrows flutters by.

copyright 2013, jennifer brinn

Namaste

Before you were my lover
you were my brother,
my son,
my father,
how could I not honor you?

Before you were my mother
you were my sister,
my daughter,
my goddess,
how could I not honor you?

Before you were my pet
we were kindred spirits
evolving from this earth
on similar sets of legs
how could I not honor you?

Before you were my food
you were sprouting from our same soil
drinking and giving us life
as you reached toward the sun
how could I not honor you?

From the divinest of being
within me,
to the divinest of being
within you
we are one,
Namaste*

Shitless

Fear,
you spiral upward and down
the flip side of my core
and now unleashing you
letting the lid  of Pandora fly,

I find solitude…….

I’m afraid,
of losing drive,
driving out of control,
hitting brick walls,
and completely
losing
focus.

I’m afraid,
of brightest lights,
having no talent,
being pricked
with needles of eyes.

Afraid of falling on ice
in a short skirt,
falling from vertiginous heights,
falling in love.

I am afraid of trusting,
having faith,
of not being caught,
of being held down,
being held back,
and being left out.

I’m afraid of showing my woman,
my child,
and never enough lady.

Afraid of sinking into
and settling for.

I’m afraid
of being disrespected,
disrespectful,
being nice,
being a bitch.

I’m afraid of being ample,
inadequate,
being completely misunderstood,
and never showing enough slip.

I’m afraid of being found out,
exposed heart,
shining my truest alma.

Afraid of average,
every girl,
everyday,
ordinary.

I’m afraid of dark cold water,
walking on the street alone
in the green-tinged hours of morning.

I am afraid of being left
and floating in the
grayest ambiguity
of leaving.

Terrified!
of what ifs,
should haves,
could haves.

I’m afraid
of being led astray,
of straying from my heart,
and turning on my soul.

You ask, “are you ever scared?”
I turn to you,
reply in one breath
one word…shitless.

copyright 2009  Jennifer Brinn