We tell ourselves we are vulnerable
that we show up on stage wearing all we have got
we bare our hearts
upon the tables of time
to all who might pass on by
I am a singer
a vaudeville talent
but you would not know it if you looked at me
or heard my name
you would not see the diva in her
loungechair room
in fact youd see an angel
sweet and demure
but that is simply what I pretend to be
to draw you near

I am an infirno of heat
and clouds and moving parts
singing peieces
and sun stoked flames
I am on fire with life
blooming like a thousand vivacious roses
and my thorns are sharp and visicous
though you would never know from looking

that I am a shelter from the storm
I am the soft and quiet night
but I am a fever that burns beyond the nights fading starlight
and a vigour full of bravado
that is full of power
and purpose
and passion
a passion to live
and consume
and be consumed
and to listen
and to speak
and to be absorbed and
to absorb
you

And I am tired of pretending that I am demure
and I am tired of sitting behind the throne room
watching the light and the fire and the action
from a distance
always safely protected by my own petty reserve
and i am tired of standing safely by the sidelines
I want to get my hands dirty
I want my body to move to the music
of my soul
unwavering
unshy
one with it
and beyond it
I am a fountain and the creater flows through me
into you
with you
inside of you
you are the brush and the creator is painting
and I want to hold my own stick
and direct my own life
with vigor and purspose and unabashad no apologetic passion
This angel is ready to sprout wings of flight
from bones preparying to grow deep
roots of power
to bring the earth through the sky into
the magic of the sweet bower
my heart
is ready
to open and explode all over me
and you
with the love of a million Lotus Flowers
my true soul
that you may consume my offering
my gift from the soul
until we are both spent
and renewed by the sharing
and the revealing of hearts coming pure and true!