Michele C. Messina Long

I sit alone,
Guarded from the hurt of words
Created from other’s anger, ego and fear,
Some intentional, others unknowing.
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In my youth I only saw one face of Autumn,
During those loudest moments in the midst of transformation.
Her leaves had already changed to reflect her glory.
That’s when I noticed. That’s who I knew her to be.
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Though he was void of sight,
He came to know me like no one before him.

With his unique vision,
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I sit
Longing to be noticed,
Hopeful, for a love to nourish me once more,
Before I wither beyond that turning point.
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... Someone just once,
Said: “no” to some meaningful cause.

... And told you it wasn’t their investment in life,
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So many regard “always and forever” as a fairytale clause,
Yet our folk unearthed the abandoned blueprint long ago.

Love need not breathe solely in the present
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Long ago I learned to separate the “I” of my Ego
From my true Self and found the freedom in saying no.

Now I’m seeing that I, as Me, is a series of stereotypes
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In every generation
Disaster invades,
Masked as the End of Life.
Yet in the wake of aftershocks
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I live in abundance,
Yet my mind resides elsewhere,
A prisoner of the word “scarcity.”
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Some say everyone and everything in life
Needs closure.
I say not so.
For it is only by remaining open-ended
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From my terrace
I watch birds flying at pleasure,
Singing their songs of emancipation.
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