I am a high heel that makes me look 5 feet and 3, 4, 5 inches, but allows me to go from tall to small in a heartbeat.  Sometimes it may hide the things that I keep to myself, while other times I am shouting out in full view all that is.

I am strength and power of a runner that feels as if I am floating on clouds, but can’t  wait to unveil the nakedness of reality.  

I am a traveler, wanting to discover all that is and all that will be.

My COVID coif jauntily waving at passers-by,

Extending furry fingers

Always a safe six feet away.

I am the comfort of savory calories,

Burritos and pasta and ice cream,

Obviously tucked away just in case

They need to nourish

When this is over

When I am still the joy 

without a black mask

I am a rubber band, flexible, changing, holding things together. 

I am a sunflower, standing tall and strong, guarding the garden.

I am coffee, soothing, warm,  providing quiet morning times of reflection.

I am a journal, a place to hide your secrets, share your joys, process the impossible, putting dreams into action.

I am the beach, a place to breathe, long walks, toes in the sand, sunsets with friends,  the rhythm of the surf calming the soul.

I am sunrise, hopeful for new beginnings and second chances. 

I am like headphones, sometimes listening in on what is important and other times trying to drown out the constant sounds all around.

I am a bird, wanting to often take flight. 

I am a fish jumping in and out of the lake in search of the next tasty meal.

I am the morning, waking early, awake and ready.

I am more of a question mark than an exclamation.

I am like a chameleon, shape shifting, changing colors more often than I wish.

I am like a molten lava cake. Strong on the outside, but cut me and I melt. 

I am purple and green and blue. It just depends on the day. 

I am, I am, I am. 

the flinty invitation of spark,

The puzzle piece in search of the Gestalt

The number three, that odd sister

I can’t be the sugar snap pea,

Tidy in her sleeping-bag pod

So I celebrate as a tomato seed,

Splashing in her oozy pool

I’ve tried to be the sun and the shiny penny,

But the clock always strikes midnight,

So I translate the wind, become

The whirligig and the crow feather

I am hazel and grey, the in-betweens

The “i” dotted with a heart, always in love

Hopeful in each breath of morning,

I am that little finch I see out my window,

Skittering on the tremble of leaf...Up! Up! Fly!

I am sea glass, once shattered and broken and now smooth and renewed.

I am like the sun shining through the storm. Like a beacon of hope. 

I am like the gentle breeze behind your back, slowly encouraging you to keep moving forward.

I am like the mountain stream, finding my way by carving my path as I go, never letting obstacles hold me back for long.

I am like the Lotus flower who blooms the most beautifully when she grows out of the mud;

Or the dragonfly who has just crawled out of the water and is just ready to fly. 

I am perfectly imperfect. I am me. 

 

Like sea glass, age has weathered my edges, smoothing some and sharpening others.  I squint to hear the nuances of other’s lived experiences through my own lenses, keenly listening.

 

I am that last puzzle piece, the one that should fit but often doesn’t no matter which way it’s turned and twisted.

 

I am words, written and spoken constantly running through my head, through my dreams, through my nightmares.  Words to make sense, to express, to understand, to soothe and comfort, words that can be heard by the head and the heart.

 

I am wires and wireless, yesterday and tomorrow, lost and found, continually searching for meaning and magic…life’s work.

Generally predictable but more wild than anyone expected.

I am the West Coast.  No longer the East.

If life is the rhythm, I am the music.  The lyrics being written with each new day.

I am the sun, no longer the moon.  Shining my own light as far as it will reach.

I’m like country music.  A mix of sad old songs and hopeful new lyrics best enjoyed with friends.  (Never trust someone who says they don’t like country music:)

I am the book not yet written.  The early chapters that were torn out slowly being uncrumpled and pieced back together.  Edited to make this life a story worth reading.

I am a black flamingo.

I am chips and salsa, common and filling. Necessary. The fruit and the stone.

I am like cheese, smooth and tangy. Crossing space and time, the new and the old.

And also like salami, a bit of pepper on the tongue, both positive and perhaps negative.

Seeming to be in one spot

Yet always moving

Great for dipping in toes

But far too icy in jump in completely

I am an Edsel

Ungainly on the outside

But, damn, check out what’s under the hood

I am a garden that escaped its owner:

Untidy, unkempt, untamed

I am a deep, resonant red

What is that called? Carmine?

But then again, maybe I’m blue

I am poblano chilies in cream sauce

I am forever dawn

The sun peeking just above the horizon

In perpetuity

I am a sloth:

Slow

but

filled

with

great

purpose

Peanut butter: occasionally chunky, usually smooth

Mornings melt me down through craters of a warm, toasty English muffin

Afternoons with spicy sourdough or nutty whole wheat and tart berry jam (seedless, of course)

I am the green and purple violet plant that 

mom nurtured with her soft brush and 

avoided watering from the top down

I am like Autumn,

enjoying crisp weekday mornings,

but reveling in a warm evening walk

I am like a quokka selfie: “unreasonably” happy all the time

I am an embroidery hoop with twinkling tea light eyes

Stitching a work of heart

Burning with hope

Waiting for the winds of change to make me dance 

And shimmer in the sunlight.

 

I am a song that echoes in peoples ear drums 

With a hook that people can’t stop singing.

 

I am an unearthed diamond

Ready to be immersed in the sun,

To shine like no other element.

 

I am the dawn -when darkness meets light,

And everything – flora and fauna 

Comes alive, 

Ready to love, learn and discover new beginnings.

I am like an aspen, standing peacefully taking in the sights of the world, gently making my presence known.

I am like a deer, taking my time to observe and plan out my every move before taking my next step.

I am a mountain, strong and solid holding up those around me.

I am the crystal blue water of a lake sparkling in the sun letting everyone enjoy my inner beauty.

I am like a waterfall, sometimes gently trickling down the mountain listening to others around me, sometimes thundering over the rocks making my voice heard.

I am a rock- solid, sometimes smooth edges, sometimes jagged edges.

 

I am a mask, willing to protect people and also be the safety of hiding -for myself and anyone else who needs it.

 

I am a plant, constantly growing, sometimes parched, searching for the sunlight with browning leaves and new sprouts, both.

 

I am a seashell, from the roar of the ocean to the warmth the sand, adapting to new environments, able to hold multitudes. 

 

I am glasses, sometimes bringing things into focus and sometimes not being able to see in the distance beyond all the chaos and panic.

 

I am the teakettle, ferocious whistle when I am heated, providing comforting tea for some, scalding burns for some, myself included.

 

I am the ocean waves, lifting people up and also crashing down around them.  

 

I am a heart full of sorrow and joy and hope and despair and regret and gratitude and rage and forgiveness: I can hold it all.