Brilliant.
Beautiful.
Blonde.
Witty and charming.
Passionate.

I see her on book covers
and in interviews
and the light in me dims
to blackness,
to my darkness that plagues me,
has shadowed me since my childhood
of hearing tales of those who have (them)
versus those who have not (us),
tales of needing to be better than or
ending up as less than.
Competition for affection,
for attention,
for love
defined my childhood into young adulthood…
into now…

Unknowingly, unwittingly,
I stuck those beliefs into my pocket
and held them as my own
and they have served the purpose
of holding me in their death grip,
isolating me from those more worthy than I
of recognition,
of praise,
of contracts,
of popularity,
of attention,
of wealth,
of renown,
of … you name it…..

I read on,
I continue to listen,
nonetheless,
and each chapter
slams me
as a reflection of how unworthy I feel
since I am NOT
brilliant. beautiful. blonde
(though I WAS blonde as a girl and could be again!)

Blessed Mother, Holy Spirit, Lord Jesus,
All the Angels and Saints and Holy Men, Women, and Children,
Please hand me the torch,
my torch,
the light that is me.

Guide my steps around and across the debris
scattered here, there
all around and in my eyes, my heart, my being
that believe that she…

oh, that ALL
have gifts
beyond mine,
gifts that merit
being read, listened to,
shared.

Pass me, please, the bucket to quell
the flames of resentment, jealousy…
weeds that grew from a childhood of
hearing those tales of the haves versus we who have not,
weeds that choked the flowers
neglected
because they weren’t what the others grew or wore or had
and, therefore, were not beautiful, brilliant of their own being.

You have granted me the persistence to continue on
in the privacy of my own scared, but sacred space,
to write, to breathe life into these scattered words of feelings
and put them on paper to bring them to the light of day.

Grant me now the faith to share them
because they speak also of others’
fears, sadness, resentments, loss…and hope.

In their space on the page,
they water this hope,
solidarity, union,
the understanding that we are not alone.
We are neither less than
nor more than.

We are one.

Our ideas and passions
intersect, overlap, complement.
Our voices resonate with different folks
of different ages, of different stripes,
all having this common soul.

Beyond being brilliant. beautiful. blonde.

We are one.
And together, we are
fearless.

Together, we are free.

Together, our words shore up
the thousands, millions, billions of souls
who ache to see and feel their grace,
their light,
their sweetness,
their love
and how they are loved.

We are one.
All of us.

Brilliantly
Beautifully
One.

©paulaksgardner, 2016.

You can still get the first edition of my book
EveryDay Prayers I: Wrapping My Fears In Wonder.