Psalms of the Modern Age, 1: All Kinds of Love.
And though I like myself more now than I could ever have imagined
when I was young and full of hate and bigotry
all growing through the forest soil
like poison laced mycelium
I know that self love is a taller order still
its one that I labor towards every day I can
but on some days it still feels far away
But I know some that I love dearly,
it’s you my heavy-heart-and-soul companion, who's known me longer than I've known my name, with whom I've shared what feels like more lives than just one.
and you my light and sweetest sunny spirit even when you’re sad and anxious, who brightens up my every-day, who I could lose my mind to in the sweetest most lavender dreams I've had,
and you my dearest magpie-moonshine, my princeling-of-the-faery fair, who's taught me change is growth and growth is good, and that I will not lose you,
and you my dearest one, whose love I could never fully here-define, my closest sympathizer, o feel-your-pain-like-it-were-mine, who makes me realize each time anew mundanity is magick,
and you, o dearest friend of mine, who taught me what community, comradery and care can mean, who I relate to in our difference and sameness there alike,
and all the countless souls I love,
who I know love me back,
each friend across an ocean, each ally across time
Yes, I love every one of you so dearly
and I see parts of me reflected in you all
and in each single one of you
I cannot help but see the things I thought unlovable
when I saw them inside the mirror
and I feel deepest adoration when I encounter them in you
and there’s another one I love as dearly
she is the person you see everytime you look at me
she is someone I could not lie and say I’ve met
but I’ve seen glimpses of her in your eyes
when you lie on my bed and then your loving gaze meets mine
I’ve seen her crawling inbetween the paragraphs in our chat history
like insects in the forest ground who turn the fallen plant remains and all that dies into most fertile soil
I see her in the things you say to me and how you speak of me
and I think I have caught her scent
in how you lean your head on to my shoulder
when things are calm and you are breathing softly
and that one time there at the hardware store
when I asked you if you enjoy the smell of hardware stores
and you said no, you love the smell of me
and also in the things you say when you claim you're not good with words
in every poem I have written of your love and mine
like that one time I told you I can't wait for summer
and you said you feel just the same when I know for a fact how much you hate the heat, the sweat, the sun and how your allergies flare up that time of year
and I did laugh a bit until you said that even when you factor in all of the things you hate,
summer's still your favourite time of year because its when you see me most,
and how my laughter turned to sweetest tears,
because I thought of sunlight first and how my seasonal depression fades, but your first thought was me alone
And I think that despite the fact we’ve never met
I love her by extension
I love the person you see when you look at me
I love how only one who loves me could begin to see me
And I too love the specks of green that only you could see
inside the muddy murky depths of those dark ponds
that you find underneath the dirty lenses on my face
Yes, I love every part of you I’ve seen
each glimpse and every fleeting glance
and every brief encounter
I hope that I'll get to meet you fully one day
I hope that I'll get to know you better soon
I hope that I can learn to love you more
and that you’ll love me too
It took me decades to begin to understand
that its not possible to hate myself into a person I could love
and that self love starts slow and silently
like seeds we sowed in shaded soil
in what felt like near accident, the way they fell onto the ground
and that it takes such patient time and sunlight kind
until you could begin to see those tiny saplings green
grow quietly from dark brown earth
where just the day before looked barren and bereft of any signs of growth
// notes
This work is the wondrous product of a haze of now 5 years, I'd started writing something that was similar in concept to what this turned out to be that many years ago and ended up scrapping it when I came to realize one of my closest relationships at the time was profoundly abusive.
In parts I realized this because it was so easy to write of all my other loves but everytime I tried to pen the parts of the piece that were meant to be dedicated to Ⓛ I fell apart and couldn't figure out how to write about the kind of love I felt for Ⓛ because so much of it was coercion and fear.
What followed was long years of trauma, pain, painful growth, near deadly encounters, medical emergencies, growing awareness of political decay, loss, separations, reunions, discovery of community, new and deep and dear connections and so much more.
In a way it feels like if I'd managed to write this 5 years ago it would be a shallow, inelaborate, unaware and painfully lacking in actual understanding what LOVE is, can be, will be.
All kinds of love, cause love is what will carry us until the end.
