Lately I have been trying to hold moonbeams in my hand. I’ve been clinging to the noonday’s shadows, dancing in the wind, wishing I could feel its hand on the small of my back, holding me steady as I twirl through space and time. I’ve been playing with grains of sand, inspecting them closely and naming them, speaking life into infinity. My voice echoes in the darkness, a breath carried through the air to return in the beating of a hummingbird’s wings outside my window on some far off day called Lonely.

I am an expansion of energy, of consciousness, bound by closet doors and chaos. I am taste and sight, fluid memories of mango flies and fright. I am oxygen and water, carbon vulnerability. I am a collection of humanity, soft cartilage and fragrant dreams. I am mumbled speech in my sleep, learning to wake to the sound of the symphony of life.

So why am I also fear and limitation? Why am I words like “trapped,” “scarcity” and “lack?” I belong to the earth and sky. I am sound waves and tender spots covering hard bones. I am stardust and light years. I was made from nothing, yet touched by everything. I cannot be contained by the physical properties of height and weight. My eyes are the color of the rainbow, my hair, beams of light reflecting fragility and molecular strategy.

I am awareness and transcendent hope. I was created in light and will return to the heart of Light. I will stomp my feet and feel the vibration of life as it passes through me. I will tread carefully with compassion, knowing the movement of my thoughts and the intention of my heart affect both the buzzing bee and the mighty oak. I will ride bicycles in the rain and shout for joy. I will make new memories of car doors slamming and leaning out the window. I will release the fading light of my past and stop squinting towards the future. I will travel in circles of infinity and praise the One who is Infinite.

I will allow Fear to teach me about Love, but never let it shape the course of my blood flow, or chart the geography of my heart. I will learn to live beyond the realms of manipulation and control. I will feel pain, sorrow, frustration and anger, but never ask any of them to stay and make a permanent home. Instead, Grace will be the hostess of my heart, politely showing jealousy, bitterness, and scarcity to the door and sending them on their way.

I will live somewhere in between closet doors and moonbeams.

Kansas City, Missouri 2011