do you know her at nautilus teachings

you may know her
if not
i am sure you have
seen her.
she always has this
about her.
she reflects
and speaks
yet if you glance
into those dark chocolate
brown eyes
you sink
like a dead weight
in the deep fissures
surrounding her soul
landing in the depths
of black
one has never
seen on earth.
she’s the one who
arrives at the party
yet you find her
on a chair alone
eyes focused downward
looking as if
she is ready to nod off.
she’s the one who may
have a few too many drinks
just to make herself
comfortable enough
to fit in
most of the time
she arrives late
leaves early
and usually
both are unescorted…
oh sure,
she has had lovers
crazy boyfriends
once she even tried
female companionship
no one seemed to fit
until that day she met-
from then on,
every time
you saw her she had a glow
but she still ended up
in the shadowed corners alone
bottle of wine by her side
so as not to move
or engage.

you approached her
“how are you?”
for a brief moment
she set her gaze
into your softness
wanting to melt
like a warm
chocolate chip cookie
but she diverted her glance
and quickly responded,
‘i’m fine. i’m good.’
you knew.
you felt her nudge.
and as she began to turn
you touch her wrist,
her response is terror
yet you continue,
“let’s have lunch this week.
I miss you…”
her face tells the story-
‘not in a million years..’
yet she gracefully smiles,
and says,
‘this week is packed.
we will catch up soon.’
like a turned off light switch
she thinks she revealed
absolutely nothing
to you
in her foot shuffling
nervous hand twitching
downward glancing
beautiful self-
yet you could see
the broken pieces
her color was off
tiny sweat bead
floating upon her top lip
a tear ready to
cascade downward…
from afar
her beauty mesmerized everyone
one could almost see her brain
creating images
writing novels
as she’d shyly smile
swing her long locks backward
look up
with light in her eyes…

she had her own world
she loved living in it
no one judged her
told her what to do
think, be or see,
so why
oh why
would she choose
to walk through this
heavy door
called life
and become
a part of all the pain,
sorrow, anger, hatred,
competition and loss
she observed?
you can’t take your
eyes off of her
you wander around
the gathering
peering through cracks
angling your head
around other people
in order to catch a glance
this time she has
removed her shoes
tucked her knees inside
her flowing long dress
wrapped her arms
around them
hugging her long limbs
into herself
she appears to be whispering
when you see
the kitty
slowly approaching her
soon its soft fluff of fur
is leaning into her
as she takes one hand
with those long slender fingers
and softy grazes the top
of its head
as she smiles…
there is brief clatter,
the kitten scoots away
and her arms drape in sadness
surrounding her entity.
she picks up her wine
adds a bit more to
top it off
takes a long, slow,
silky sip
closes her eyes
and once more

“where does she go?”
you wonder.
then you think,
“i want that too?”
your husband comes up from behind
hugs you
kisses your neck
as you fall into him.
you think.
“i love my life…”
but then you wonder
“maybe, she’s never had a friend.
maybe she’s afraid to be a friend.
maybe, just maybe
i will extend my hand in
you may know her
if not
i am sure you have
seen her.
she always has this
about her.
we go about our daily
rush, rush, rush lives
in a world where
most of the people seem
to be pretty much like us.
if you really look
there are those
who appear to be echoing life
they may walk the walk
talk the talk
hold jobs
raise kids
carry on this outward life
yet inside
there is
a wilting
a lack of sustenance
a softness even
that they refuse to share
talk about
or let anyone in…
it could be a million reasons why
abandonment issues
low self worth
lack of courage
no voice
but more than not
i believe
it’s because
she still wants to be that little girl
running barefoot down the
soft hills of her childhood
picking daisies
rolling top the bottom
landing under the grapes
climbing trees to see
how far
the road goes
letting the wind whip
through and knot
her long hair
swinging from the
weeping willows
long branches
and chasing fireflies
before she jumps
into her cool sheets
and dreams of
magical worlds
colorful fish
and the day
her soul
will be set free…