I rather miss the poet in me.

I do not, for a second,
miss the pain...
but I miss the way the emotions I felt
swirled through and around me
trying to find their way
out of me...

It is a tremendous accomplishment
for me to acknowledge
that my current happiness
has stripped away my
need
for poetry...
At this moment,
I have no need to define my emotions.
I am simply content;
there is nothing particularly poetic
in that.
I suppose it is narcissistic of me
to assume that I am most beautiful
when I am expressing a primal misery...
that happiness itself cannot be
as magestic as sorrow...

.... it is a strange realization
that I would rather be happy
than poetic...
and yet
in every moment of that old misery
(even then, I knew)
I would have chosen happiness
over anything else

I have been in my house for
15 days
and this is the first time that
it felt real
I just walked every foot of my yard
and touched every tree
and thanked each part
for existing.

This is the first home I've known
since the house of my childhood
... and I feel worthy of it.
I am so much more than
just good enough
to be here, to live here...
This is where I belong
and I cannot describe in words
the happiness that I am feeling...

... the content that I am feeling...

.. how right this feels....

The completeness I feel
is warm and fluid and bouyant;
I am exactly ready
to settle into my life's groove
and be
just right
all of the time.

I am no longer amazed
at how happy I am... it just is
and it's hard, now, to remember
when my life wasn't like this.

Once or twice in three million breaths
I gently poke the scars in my heart
to see if they still hurt
and every time I do,
every time
I can't stop the silly little grin
that flies across my lips
from the utter absence of pain.

I have every particle of my Past & Present
packed in boxes,
ready to settle in to my new house
and the rest of my
warm and bouyant life...
I've never been this happy
and I've never appreciated happiness this much

"There comes a point where you just love someone. Not because they're good, or bad, or anything really. You just love them. It doesn't mean you'll be together forever. It doesn't mean that you won't hurt each other. It just means you love them."

-Laurell K. Hamilton, Incubus Dreams

Last night I dreamt that I was barefoot in a light summer dress, lying on my stomach across a tea cart with my ankles delicately crossed above my back, and I was flying slap-dash down a rocky hillside on an asphalt path barely wider than the wheels of my cart. I steered unerringly, shifting my body weight and laughing as I heard hoots of approval from several lookers-on. Just as I was slowing to a stop, I executed a flawless dismount, landing on my bare feet with the grace of a dancer, utterly composed and brilliantly pleased with myself.

It exhilarates me to no end that, even subconsciously, I have that much confidence in my own innate abilities!

Today was a very fine day, and I'm thinking tomorrow will be a grand one as well...