Tag: kimsorganizedcluttr

because

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I am a 5’7 Novice professional.

The dreamers visionaire.

A visionaires dreamer.

Millennia renaissance woman, i think.

Mother of 3.

An On Demand, anime, and Netflix binger.

Podcast junkie.

Jackie of some trades

Tacooooo 😮 savvypreneur, but only for taco tuesdays.

Poplocker in my head.

Dance fever advocate for those who dance like nobody’s watching.

Like that time my son performed what I assumed to be an eight count of moves he’d made up while we waited for his name to be called at the doctor’s office.

With a room full of people the only person who cared to join him was the nurse who’d politely welcomed us when we’d entered the door.

They had the moves.

Entertained, I cheered them on.

I was the hype woman.

no, no, Ororo Munroe

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There’s a storm cloud floating above me, its thunder is shaking the place

Fahrenheit at 108

I admired two birds standing still as the wind blew

while witnessing lightning strike

they stand firm as the thunder swoon  

the thunder swoons

One facing left and the other right nesting in the blended CG tunes

The cloud breaks, rain falls, and they fly away

the feeling, OF

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There is nothing like the feeling of, the feeling of.

The feeling of the tightest hug

and a box of love with meanings in it.

You know the ones with the dreams in it?

Yes those, The feelings of…

It was the feeling of my lightest dream.

Glistening diamonds

the sweetest buttercream

the feeling of the best of the feeling, of.

Progression

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pro·gres·sion

/prəˈɡreSH(ə)n/

Definition: the process of developing or moving gradually towards a more advanced state.

    So…

    I.

    I am.

    I am a.

    I am a work.

    I am a work in progress. 

    I admit, i’m aware of this. 

    No matter how much I try to run away from it, it pulls me back in.

    the work.

    the progress.

    It churns my stomach. Makes my heart ache. Produces the sweat above my lip. Insists on fogging the lens of my glasses.

    The progress.

    The work that I am.

    The work that I was

    no longer am i leaning on my self absorbed mastery

    only depending on the Lord to instill in me understanding. 

    Understanding.

    Understanding.

    Understanding 

    the work that is made in me. 

    The new work that is made in me. 

    I heard pleading in streets. “Simplicity! Change from the simple things!”

    …it’s time to progress

    Wednesday

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    Last Wednesday I met a man from the motherland. I asked, “Are you from Ethiopia?”

    He said, “No love, I’m Egyptian.” 

    Offered me some water, told me to take his hand.

    We discussed the people we loved, and the ones we thought we can. 

    He talked about his two daughters Akua and Nkechi. 

    Used colorful words about his children, he was rather lively. 

    Described how they smiled when they saw him thriving. 

    Shared concerns of when he’ll be back, he hoped that it be timely. 

    Then suggested I close my eyes because he wanted me to see

    the wind that sang whispers through the eucalyptus trees. 

    It was gentle, quite simple, the scent that carried whispers. 

    I saw stories of a fox who survived the coldest winter, 

    and the gazelle who dove gracefully into earths fiery center. 

    But before she took the leap she yelled, “Keep your spirit kinder!” and her legs burst into flames

    *My name…I hear my name…*

    “What happened?!”

     “Oh, you’re awake. I was calling your name.”  

    The Egyptian said to me.

    Puzzled, I answered, 

    “The last thing I remember was the aroma from the eucalyptus trees.”

    He replied, “That was the incense I lit, and its’ residue you smelled.

    You started talking 100 miles per minute then began to yell 

    about how you enjoyed the way the leaves danced in the wind

    and every time they stopped you clapped,

    “ENCORE! AGAIN! AGAIN!” 

    So they danced about the same length of time that my incense burned.

    With your eyes closed you stood up performed a light brise’ and turned.”