What Makes a Life Alive

What makes a life alive
and alive a life?
Is it breath,
Touch, or sight?
Or is it,
action, word and deed?
Is it compassion,strength,
or loss?
Or is it,
motion, choice and need?


What is it, precisely,
which makes you, you & me,
and me?

Do we not,
You and I, come --
from the same,
vast place?

Are we not --,
I and you,
Rather, quite the same?

Not exact,
In body, or in mind,
But what of that, which,
Brings forth all life?

What of that inner most part,
which,
in us, is
deeply linked
To our fight
Not of today,
nor of tomorrow,
But rather, that which,
unites
you and I -- I and you,
More,
than our hands, arms,
or feet,
Beyond,
Choice,
Thought
and creed?

For do we not, us all, extend –
Past this human design?

What if, we, are in truth --

Floating, in the air,
burning, with the sun,
Swaying, like the leaves,
Ebbing, through the waves ?

If we were to listen to that voice,
& remember, the silence
Which brought us here
& in stillness,
will, one day, --
glide us back --
To night.

Waves of Life

I don't know
How I feel
So I write

I am - epuisée!
Again, amidst the ebbs
that flow in,
and of - the life,

J'y suis --
très, très,
fatiguée

of being tired;
Rather, wanting --
Fiercely, craving

waves, vivacious
chills striking
the core -
marrow, bones.

Feelings.
So many bad,
sadly Fierce.

Today,
I feel a painful
blow deeper -
way down,
further,
Than I'd like
to know.

Yet,
As sore as is
this sorrow,
And,
As real, as is
this hate,
let us grow,
in compassion.

Please,
Don't seed anger
Blocking,
Love & Reason -
our pure,
human light.

Instead,
Choose -
Patience.
Give more kindness -
Inspire strength,
let life.

Where tO go -- know?

Feeling lost.

Where to go?
In front?
In back?
I don't know.

If I did,
It would all seem clear
As I don't,
It just brings up fear.

It will be fine,
So they say.
and on some level,
I know.

But for today,
I would really like
to be in a place
Where I know.

Can she, will she -- write?

Can she --
Will she --
Write?
Can she,
she can
write
her thoughts,
her dreams,
all the extremes --
as they come and go,
yield and flow.

Can she --
Has she,
will she --
This time?
She has tried,
Yes --
she has tried,
Many, oh --
so many a time
to write
to express
to be
to see --
through
her words,
Find her voice --
In a blog,
as a story,
a hand-written note,
All which,
she quite enjoys.
So much, so much, in fact --
would you --
could you believe?
It is her very passion,
her very spark --
that exhausts --
these burst of thoughts
and flows of words,
which need so strong,
then give so weak.

Been awhile but I'm still here.

I'm still here. I promise. I did take a good long break from writing for awhile. I wanted so badly to fully immerse myself in the French language and culture, so I did.
I have basically put aside English and the US of A for a little over a year now. Other than my job teaching English that I started a few months ago,I cannot say I speak more than a few words in English per month - at least half of which, I'm embarrassed to admit are profanities. I deliberately only swear in my native tongue not particularly out of courtesy, but mostly because"putain" et "merde" do nothing for me...

Long story short, I'm realizing that as much as I thoroughly enjoy progressing in French, which is undeniably a result of my pig-headed REFUSAL to speak in English to ANYONE**, English is a part of me.

My first words were in English, as were almost every other one that I uttered until I was about 20.

That makes a lot of words,

That makes a lot of experiences, and

That makes a lot memories,

all

in English.

Donc, C'est bien là, l'anglais, et

c'est comme ça.

So, here's to English! My language, my culture, my home.

So alas,

Welcome home.







**I am continually amazed by the pervasive degree in which the English language squishes its way to all corners of the world...

Le Bus, L'Universe, et Moi.

The Universe, as defined by me refers to the interactions that take place between an individual and factors in his or her environment, and is based on the principle of a balanced exchanged between good versus evil. Thus defined, The Universe presents equally as many positive as it does negative opportunities; the goal is to concentrate on the good especially when it is most convenient to yield to the bad. Easier said than done, of course, The Universe isn’t all about fluffy bunnies and fantasmical flying unicorns; while I’ve cleaned up the expression out of respect for my audience, it is also known as The Tempestuous Lil’ Bugger that keeps me on my toes; one minute, it jettisons the fresh-made bread from my fingers into a mud puddle, and the next it graces me with a free ride on the bus. Let’s focus on the latter.

On the subject of buses and The Universe, the other day I experienced what felt like the most unlikely display of good fortune. The circumstances were as follows: Frustrated and bored with the rainy weather and persistent lack of internet, a sudden need to escape my apartment overwhelmed reason. I decided to take the bus to the Auchan supermarket all the while knowing that the desire to be outside was largely heightened by the reality that it was pouring and I had no umbrella or waterproof clothing of any kind. It was a risky endeavor because it had been storming heavily at intervals all day. A sound mind would have instead read a good book or taken a nap, but not I, who, seeing it as a worthy challenge, suited myself in my most weather-appropriate gear - jeans, a sweater, a pair of my Mom’s hand-me-down strapped leather sandals and a Samsonite back pack and headed out the door.

As if right on cue, the rain picked up its force as I stepped outside, causing me to pull over under the nearest covering and re-evaluate the situation. My considerations had not gone too far before there was a slight decrease in precipitation and I bolted out towards the street knowing it was now or never; besides, I’m a Floridian, storm clouds don’t scare me, although perhaps they should.

In a mixed state of elation and dismay, I saw the bus approach the stop after only walking about a third of the distance from my apartment. Feelings of doubt once again entered my mind at the dangers of running down the wet sidewalk to quickly cross the intersection before the bus, but I had long ago abandoned reason; I ran. For once, the rain gave me the advantage by slowing down the traffic just enough so I barely made it to the stop as the bus was pulling up. I couldn’t have timed it better if I had tried.