This life sings its own song

This life sings its own song, 

If I let it.

Red velvet loosely covers my sins.

Loving is powerful,

Trapping and freeing.

Singing it sends me home.

I feel it rising,

The hopeful burn,

Singeing its way out;

Never to return.

Loving is gritty,

Sensational and wild.

Sometimes gentle but mostly a paradox

That’s hard to hold,

Hard to see,

So involving.

Our brains are dual;

Both critic and sage.

Crisis and compassion

Compete for control.

The context is critical,


“And that’s okay,”

Says the sage,

Soothing with a light touch

Once again.

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