Wednesday, May 15, 2019

The Perishable Gift

The last few years have been a rebirth, of sorts. I have become fluent in the languages of fear and loss, developed the righting reflex of a feral feline, and mastered the art of self-preservation. 
I embraced my ability to create and sustain life, a home, and a future without dependence - simultaneously harnessing the power to accrue money, possessions, and success with the power to see into the secret corners of one's soul. From the seeds of human potential that need nurturing, to the lurking demons defending their stronghold.
And so I looked my demons in the eye, drew my sword, and adorned myself in armor fashioned from their dismembered appendages so that I could claim my choices as my own, my actions as intentional.
In the process, I learned to integrate tears and scars into the foundation of the pillar upon which I now stand to lay my offerings of gratitude on the universal alter:
  • Gratitude that my every true need has been provided for
  • Gratitude for a heart that loves fiercely but not foolishly
  • Gratitude for the ability to adapt and overcome
  • Gratitude for the strength to transform pain into power
Like the tides, I rise and fall, but my presence cannot be denied. I will amaze you with my intellect, and frustrate you with my thoughtlessness. I will draw you in with my song, and split you open with my words. I will challenge you to expose the greatness in you that you cannot see. I will boldly conquer by day, and seek solace in loving arms by night. My body will respond to love's touch with the intensity of a volcano, but wilt to the shallowness of lust like a cut flower.
I am raw yet polished. Vulnerable yet indestructible. Made of grit and passion robustly entangled with nurturing softness. I am brilliance and talent and beauty and fortitude. And within me is an infinite spring of love and compassion patiently awaiting a willing and worthy recipient.
But I will not abide casual folly, nor pleas for second chances. I will not be content in the shadow of other priorities, nor compared to other lovers, nor penciled into anyone's agenda.
For my attention is a precious gift... but one that perishes without proper care.