fbpx
Poetry & Art

If You Need Me

If you need me, I’m not at that address anymore. I don’t have that name, and I don’t work there.
I don’t think about personal relationships or the role of community in the same way. I look twice at everything. You know, lift the rose shades for a closer look even though it’s really, really sunny out here. I had been dismissive with my intuition and burned myself in ways that are still forming new skin.
I’m nowhere close to the same person as last summer, and I’m willing to bet that neither are you.

 

Everything shifted and it happened in a big breathtaking way that was hard to keep up with.
I met with an herbalist to discuss how to re-balance after an earthquake of a year and the first things she asked were what passion projects are you working on, are you meeting with your friends, and how are you sleeping? Passion and connectivity are as important as sleep. We need to create, we need to be seen, and we need to rest our bones. 

Silence was easier than vulnerability while I held my breath and swam around and out of this great pause, but in all the dark and uncertainty there is always the flip side of experiencing more joy than you feel able to hold. That is worth recognizing and worth sharing while we continue to spin around on this rock with untouchable heat inside.

I’m new but my number is still the same, if you need me.

Comment
by Ro Delancy

Ro grew up in the desert and there is no running from that no matter how long she lives in the city.
She’s probably suntanning and thinking about plants and planets right now.

More From Poetry & Art

The Sand Dollar

by Deeya Foreman

friends.

by Rocío Romero

In the Conflict of Modern Ideas

by Daniela Gutierrez

Your voice is a treasure

by Candace Taylor

My eyes are mirroring

by Simona Prilogan