I Choose Substance

I choose substance. I choose to surround myself with depth and reality. I want to hear the depth of a soul so old wisdom drips like the words of Grandmother Willow. I want to hear about the aches so poignant the pain shreds through my heart until the love growing from it beams and ripples with a joy so pure my soul burst forth new. Keep the pleasantries and facades for the media, and give me rawness of a life grounded with purpose. Let me see other side of your mirror where the image comes from perspectives as wide as the roles you’ve used to define yourself. And then whisper to me who you really see. Dance with me when the rain falls like fire, bathe with me in the miracle of starlight, wonder at transient perfection of the moon’s cold glow, and shiver on the darkest night. Just don’t give what you think the world wants of you. I choose the whole variety of what this world dishes up. I want to chew on the meat of the problem, savor the sides passed down from women long gone, and share a desert so sweet the kid in me giggles. I want to know and understand every spice, hear you tell me how your mother used to make it. I want my soul to know souls that sound like the elements of life.