What To Do With Interrupted Plans

Breathe light into the beginning of day, no one 
else has been here before, open up your empty
hands for the filling.

Notice the fingerprints no one else has, be the cup
for the in-pouring of wine, the old
can’t contain it.

Allow the leaves to grow green as they come, feel the rings 
in your trunk slowly expand, let the leaves on you go
when they emblazon the forest with gold;  
your old parts fall to the ground.

Walk into a growing of things, flex your muscles
to run for the rising of light, don’t give up
on the pulsing of dreams in the night,
keep your dreams for the living.

Remove too many layers of unwanted clothes, you were made
for a fitting of the skin you live in, even though you’re not
perfect as you wanted to be, move with air and the
flowing of tides.

Listen for the language born into the streams of your blood,
wisdom will come when you call for it, speak
with the ones who will listen to the heart of you,
waiting for the heart of you
to wake up.

Get off the chair that’s been holding you down 
with the life you thought you’d be living 
by now.

So many plans you’ve been putting on hold, voices
telling you so many things, looking for the path
when it keeps forking off, move into what
makes sense for now,
anyway.

Step across any threshold that comes, keep
on doing what’s in front of you to be done,
even though it’s not what you planned,
doing it anyway.

Lean into the heart of the flower of a day, take the 
hand of the one who loves you, remove
labels and ties from the past, become open
to let change do its work.

Console the ones who are needing your love, allow
the love of others more deeply in, to soften the places you made
like a rock, healing the pain of a 
flesh wound.

Happy to be the misfit you’ve become, no more striving 
to be or belong, coming home to the skin you live in,
learning how to notice the heartbeat
of life.

No more ducks in a row to conform, with the rows 
and the rules and the copious forms, no more filling it in
with your signature down at the bottom.

Keeping honesty at the root of it all, listening for
the changes that keep showing up, soaking in all the
grace that is offered underneath the bare-feet
of the living.

The less we pretend, the more we make ourselves known,
the older we grow the more we evolve,
it is really about the unknowing
that makes space for the colours
to flow.

You need grace in your life, like I do,
we’re all trying to make it a beautiful thing
from out of the art of shaping and longing.

I peel out of the skin of my past,
you peel out of the stuff you’ve grown through,
we all see what comes out of these stifled cocoons,
and shake off what they said,
what they did.

Trauma moves out of my body like waves
rolling out of the shore of my naked and vulnerable body,
less eager for answers, more open to 
questions.

Allowing the smile of you to reach into me, losing
the ego ambition that drives us for more, into a corner of
our own making; giving up on
success in the eyes of the people.

Letting your wisdom spill onto my page, to touch
my most gentle and softening parts,
becoming open to new things in new ways, not
expecting perfection.

No more trying so hard to fit in, getting out of the
box they designed for my life, letting the more of me 
breathe in a field with no fences.

Enjoying the way you think and you feel,
not having to think that way for myself, enjoying faith
as a Person.

Coming undone as a practice for life, not sure where I fit
but it’s okay for now, being in the mid-life of passion
and longing.

Not sure where I will ever belong, not sure where
I will ever fit in, but it’s not in a box and it’s not
in a system.

Splattering paint all over the canvas, digging the colours
right out of my heart, sharing the messy and beautiful
embracing of life 
as it is.