The Golden Sunrise at Dawn

Damn..talk about a dry spell!! Forgive me blog, for I have sinned. It has been 6 months since my last post. I recently started the Fall semester and am taking Interpersonal Communication for my massage degree. For our first project we had to put together something that was about us. I made a collage and wrote a poem about me. I wanted to share it and thought, "What better place to share my poem than in my blog?" so..here it is!

The Golden Sunrise at Dawn

She comes from a land down under, but the land of the free has always been what she’s called home. A military brat, this American roo has had her fair share of travel around the home of the brave. She has played in the California sun, been through the Utah snow, tasted the salt of the Florida beaches, and smelled the Arizona desert air. A middle child of 6, attention doesn’t come easy. A somewhat cultural attaché, she cooks like an Italian, drinks like a German, and fights like the Irish. She grew up on America’s favorite pastime and if you listen closely you can hear her battle cry, “No one beats the Bronx Bombers!”

She has overcome mean girls and naughty boys; letting go of their playground taunts. Her dragon now stands watch outside her castle; protecting her outside the stone walls she has built. With a frustrated heart she waits for love. She wears her heart under her sleeve, afraid to show true emotions. Music expresses what words cannot and they flow better through her pen than her mouth; allowing freedom for her much imprisoned thoughts. Her extrovert argues frequently with her introverted self, and they tend to embarrass one another. A unique quality for an introvert, she practices techniques to help release tension kept bottled away.

Unsure of religion she is only acquainted with Jesus. They seem to have an understanding on the existence of each other, but aren’t really sure what one another is about; a strange concept for this former Catholic school girl. The afterlife is something best left alone. She is merely a guest to the ghosts in her home. Ghosts to her are like bees, they won’t sting you if you don’t sting it. But of ghosts, demons, and angels, rejection and loneliness are her greatest fears. Feeling inferior to those around her she knows her life is superior to others less fortunate.

But she is patient and kind. Easily approachable by many, loved platonically by thousands, outgoing to those who know her best, and shy around those who are new to her shell. She is smart, sexy, and fun.

She is….ME!