Identify
- MyMindScape.net
- Mar 18, 2021
- 2 min read
I identify as a hippie
with a loud mouth
who cries about your crimes
yet is playful, silly, and with hope.
Here is the truth of my ways.
I like wild clothes
and uncommon art,
enjoy dreaming,
and levity
and discourse.
I read.
I experiment to determine truth.
I play as a way of discovery.
I fight for love over division.
Conformity bores and bothers
and I am certain that tolerance
is the only path to understanding,
the only, yes only
faith with substance.
I see goodness and dream for more
and though I do not do drugs,
I am drugged with a passion
for living
and laughing.
I express myself,
see alternatives to orthodoxy,
and know that both lead to fact
versus fictive and limited
understanding.
I don't wear them
but I pick flowers
and decorate my windows
and heart
and imaginary castles
with their color, scent, and promise.
I love the outdoors,
the smell after rain,
sunlight pouring through the leaves,
and the song of the birds
telling us to really listen
before talking.
I know without doubt
that God does not belong
only to the Christians
as we are all children
of divinity,
all worthy to define
the meaning of our own devotion.
I will not greet another's offences
with violence
because I take all as they are,
some uneducated, maybe,
but mostly just doing
what others tell them to do
and how to believe.
I study history
to learn the reasons
of the
misguided disillusionment
of the hateful,
their determination to divide,
and their patriarchal
methods of sex,
leadership,
and way of thinking.
Learning and contemplation
are the only way to understand.
I respect all,
invite everyone to my table,
but riot peacefully
if another crosses the line
toward disrespect.
I possess and yell my hope
that, someday,
the rightful coming of love
will burn brighter
than the hateful, judging hearts
frozen in their own iceberg
of their indifference
to the future of our children,
to the Other who is not
like them.
I draw
and write
and scream
against
indifference to poverty,
social divide,
the jailing of the innocent,
the displacement of the minority,
and the teasing of those who differ.
Yet, I understand that such horrors
are born from their own
poor foundations,
untaught awareness,
and undeveloped growth.
Take me
or leave me
but know I am no Snowflake,
but a woman
of hot fire
chanting for a better future
drumming in circles,
playing a native flute,
and dancing in fields of lilacs
and pansies
adoring them
and loving you
whether you accept
my need to love you
or not.
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