Wild as the ocean, free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Wild as the ocean. Free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

I will not stay calm~!

Learning to calm myself despite feeling the storm building all around me feels like trying to stuff a whale into a bottle.
I fight the urge to fight, to rage against the world of injustice and irritation like gods and generals. Like men do.
Because there is no place for a woman of anger in this world.

The rage builds so large inside me that I begin to think I cannot breathe, so I stop breathing. Then when the head grows dizzy, reality sinks in and the pain I am in over what is so wrong in the world becomes even more real.
I cannot hide from it.  The pain is still there, so my rage is still there.
So I will not stay calm!

Acid churns up, swaying the bow like a boat lost at sea, I curl inward in pain.
Anger is addictive.
But I must learn to calm this storm.

Sometimes I think it'd be ok to be swallowed alive, maybe live at the bottom of a beast in the sea where there is just enough space to light a candle in the dark.
I'll simply sit still, listening to the sounds of nothing but acid and water moving around me like a creep in the night.
I'll wait there patiently until I can crawl back to hell in one piece.

I will take this anger and use it for fuel to help me climb out on ribs and flesh, pulling my way up through the belly of the beast into the soft space that lies between the teeth, where I will slide out the next time the beast's rage burns open a hole in the sky.

Don't stuff the beast back into the bottle.  Set it free, use it for fuel.

Danya Mosgofian©7/15 & 12/15

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Into the Wind~

A wild wind blew in today, hot heavy and full of secrets.
Giving us false promise of a storm to come,
of a time of destruction that isn't going to happen.   
It was easy to get excited, to stir in our seats like children at the cinema. 
Waiting for the show to begin sitting under that very same sky 
as if it could not happen here, right here, to us.
We sat there obliviously, unaffected to move in the glee of our curiosity.  
After all, it turned out only to be a show. 

The wind pushed it's way into the evening, moving tree and limb about in 
a dizzy array of power.  One could do very little with it but sit as still as you
were able, smiling like a criminal unwitnessed and let it pass us by.  

Life has a way of breaking us down as we trod along.
What helps us not break but bend and sway?
Some might say do as the willow does.

Sitting below, I am witness to one that has figured out the wind.  They have figured out how to dance in the wind, matching it's passionate fury step for step, using it's rage to aloft itself: the hawk.  So I wonder...
How does the hawk maintain it's dizzying heights in the mad wind 
while looking for prey, doing it's job, whilst pausing mid-air like a machine with precise levers and maneuvers?
Hanging on hover in the sky like a declaration of defiance, right in plain view.
It does this by facing straight into the wind, shoulders back, wing tips down
and ready for a fight.  It doesn't back away, gliding into the quiet of the sky, looking for an easy place to hide. 
No, the hawk faces the wind like an old friend acting like a foe.
It does this, by using the wind's every breath and turn like a tool.
Like a mould designed to guide that which it desires right where the user wants.

So this is the secret to life.  Head right into the storm of our lives as if
nothing can stop us.  Know that it is our right to be here so push past that which is thrown out to deter us.  Fly right past it all with defiance and bravado.
For your next meal depends on it. 

Some might say, go peacefully, be patient for what you want and it will come.
Maybe. For on some quiet and peaceful days we can. But not today.  
When the wind dies down again, as it will, then you can rest on a perch high
above all and sit quietly restoring yourself, patiently.  
For now, watch the hawk dive into the wind beak down, talons turned in and a birth right to do so with all the rage in the world summoned.
Go and do the same.


Thursday, April 9, 2015

Forming Motion~

~The clouds form strange patterns today,
dancing sideways, bringing in a breeze that
changes the tone of the sky.
My teeth escape, poking out behind flesh and grin,
ready to bite something, snarling quietly.
Time for a song to quiet the angry beast within…
or give it something pleasant to dance to~