i wake
with my eyes slowly adjusting
to white crisp bedsheets
and Canadian sun bathing in the open window.
the air smells of ocean morning mist breezes
through pacific coast rain forest with
undercurrents of freshly cut grass
and rose gardens in bloom.
i can already feel the longing
to remember this scent for the rest of my life.
i find
solace, refuge, creative expression
on the university campus grounds.
everyone is in a rush, doing great things,
maybe i too- one day, will do great things.
though i feel myself drowning in mediocrity.
i keep trying.
i let myself sink into realms of depth,
held by white pages and black ink.
i am being pulled, i let my imagination go.
but then, i pause, putting the pen down-
“what if i don’t achieve great things?”
i hear
songs from a past life playing on my headphones.
the scene has changed, but the heart remembers.
it feels good to remember. though i wish to forget.
i try hard to forget.. it’s complicated.. i’m not ready.
i’m still healing imprints of abandonment left by another.
and even if i knew my feelings were reciprocated too
i have a sense, he is not ready either.
but his presence follows me. it feels comforting.
i just wish he knows, how beautiful he is.
i relax into the void, what is meant to be will be, i suppose..
i hide
the truth, that i came here because i miss my father so much i feel my bones hurt.
but here, i feel close to him, among towering trees and forestry campuses.
i wonder what he would say, if during his Uni days, some told him-
“you’d have a daughter, doe eyed and sensitive, such a dreamer.
she comes here often, she wants to be close to all the places you once were.”
sometimes i wonder if he’s here. maybe he’s not.
and that has to be ok too, i’ve lived so lives many without him,
i have the grit to keep living more without him. i think..
i return
my awareness to the fluttering wings of black birds,
they steal my attention with the tales they speak.
i lay in courtyards of little white daisies laced in rich greens,
i aspire to put my head down, i aspire to take rest.
i’ve been running for so long, i’m tired..
but i’m haunted by the tale of the brother who got caught in the bardo,
and the sister karmically pulled to follow him, to help set him free.
and i feel responsible-
for taking the tangles and rewriting it into something beautiful.
i so desperately want to take the tangles and rewrite it into something beautiful.
but what if i am unable to rewrite it into something beautiful..?
i bring myself back
to the inhale,
to the exhale..
to the inhale,
to the exhale..
i package up
the complexities
and the contradictions.
no one wants to hear any of this.
so i tuck them away. for now.
i pick up
the pen,
and the $2 postcard picked up from the gift shop.
with pure intentions,
but a false facade,
i write,
what i think
my Mama back home
wants to hear…
“Hi! Greetings from UBC in Vancouver!
Everything has been so lovely….”
daveyhproductions 
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