Remembering Me

Sometimes I remember myself.
In moments of delicious clarity, I remember who I am,
and who I wanted to become
and I don't feel at all like I am missing out, or being passed over,
or passed by, or left behind.
I don't feel at all like I am missing out on anything,
or spinning madly out of control.

Sometimes, in delicious moments of crisp,
refreshing, blinding, clarity-
I see myself and I am happy.
Like the elation of a desert nomad who's just found the well,
it is the first sip that cures the thirst,
and reminds me I am still alive.

I am alive.
I am reminded to rejoice!

To be gracious and grateful and good.
To dance lightly across the face of this world
and throw kisses at the sky.
Sometimes in cool, fleeting moments, shaded by serenity,
I am reminded of who I am, and who I wanted to become.
I remember who I am,
and I am free.

Tracks of Her Tears

Girl-
You look like you've been crying-
You know, I saw your tears from three rows back.

Girl, you look exhausted too early in the evening-
Riding the train, crying in the rain
Girl, you look like hell.

I know that feeling,
Girl I don't know.
I have been where you are,
in between here and there,
Eyes Closed.

Girl- trying to forget the feeling
of your tear streaked cheeks.

Girl- whatever it is that has you
weeping silently
on this commuter afternoon,
I hope you shake it off-
these dreary day blues.
Girl I don't know.
Girl I know.
You've been crying.