I Am

Sometimes I’m surly Susan

Miss cross patch, fiery and red

Hollow on the inside

Black.

Eaten away at, almost dead.

Sometimes it’s just a lucid dream

Distinct as black and white.

Or over the horizon vastly

Grey,

Clouded from my limbic’s sight.

I don’t like to be here too long!

The intensity discourages my way.

So I come back to self, to home, to

Rust;

To my grounded and weathered old-souled bay.

Sometimes I sit with this moment.

Inhale in the equilibrium.

Comfortable calmness reflecting sky

Blue

Soaks itself into the hums of “Om”

Here I reach what I call “I am”

Exhale all the darkness out

Reach my highest self, so pure, so

White;

Where no space is left for self-doubt.

I embrace my whole in this stillness;

My formless being I’ve grown to love.

The fluid colours of my own

Rainbow,

Always accepting of me in the skies above. 🌈