Misunderstood

How can all of our hearts

drum the same, ironic beat:

 

i’m misunderstood

i’m misunderstood

i’m misunderstood

-L.M.G.

Firestone Friday: Poem XXI

A powerful freedom

exists in knowing

that your identity,

your unchanging essence,

and your inextricable value,

do not rest

in production,

so whether you produce

triumphs or failures

or nothing at all,

you remain

as richly radiant

as you always have.

Firestone Friday: Poem XV

Consumed by deadlines.

Buried in unmet dreams.

Burdened by rejections

that press me farther downstream.

From beneath the water,

I greet the stones with a grin,

for it takes water in your ears,

to hear the voice within.

The Whisperer makes to speak,

and tells the wearied me,

that the things for which I labor

hold not my identity.

The essence, the potentialities,

the soul, and the heart,

your daily triumphs and your failures

hold not even part.