But I’m not a poet..
Poem : “Alive” ; November 13, 2015
I want to be alive.
I want to be natural.
Alive like feeling the hot, white sand between your toes.
Alive like a twirling gyspy skirt dancing to the beat of a drum.
Alive like the sound of an African child’s laughter in front of the mud hut homes. Showing all her teeth and disappeared eyes.
Natural like dreadlocks swaying in the wind.
Alive like dancing in the rain. Running through the rain with no umbrella. No shoes. Feet on the wet asphalt road.
I want to be light. Light that draws you in. Light that draws you home. Light that attracts, undeniable. Real and comforting. I want to be authentic. I want to be warmth. Cozy.
I want a happiness that makes people smile. A laughter that makes me cry. Makes you cry.
A joy that makes you question. Question what it means to have joy. Question the source of her joy.
So joyous, so real, so natural. I want to know her. I want to be her friend. Her essence, her very nature. Its so tangible. It’s so attracting.
I want to be beautiful. Not simply for beauty sake. But to have an attractive spirit. A beautiful human.
To take care of people. To love, nourish and nuture those around me. To care with everything in my being. To give to want to be in the situation with someone. Feel your pain. I will sit with you.
I want that type of beauty.
I want to be so alive. So on fire. So here. I want to radiate light and love. I want to feel. I want to embody what it means to be human. What it means to have joy and to spread love.
I want to care. I want to listen. I want to help. I want to do. I want to touch. I want to hold your hand. Hold your hand when you are not strong enough. Care about others deeply.
Passionate. Passionate about living. About other people.
I want to feel every moment. To capture every moment. Every emotion. I want to take advantage of each moment.
I want to be so alive that in any moment that I sit still I am scared. Afraid that in my stillness I might not be living. Only to find out that I am soaking in the moment. Reflecting. Remembering.
I want to be still. Be aware. Be present.
I want to share and be present with people. In trials, in suffering. I want to be the light. Peaceful light. I want to have an aura of calm in a trial.
I want to be alive like the setting sun on a sunflower field. Walking through and touching each flower as the sunlight gently kisses the flowers goodnight. The yellow colour turning into pure gold.
I want to feel the earth. Listen to the wind. Hear the animals. Feel the breeze. Experience the sunlight on my skin.
I want to be alive like my melanin soaking up the sun like a thirsty wanderer in a desert finding a cool stream. I want my skin to feel the warmth of the sun. I want to be alive like that. As if, “yes finally, it has been so long since I have felt your warmth, sun.”
Alive like a polaroid camera of captured moment of friends. Or sipping warm tea in bed. I want to feel. Experience. Live. Love.
I want to feel revived. Happy. Joyous. Content. I want to be alive. I want to live. I want to be natural.