i am...portland (8 minute stream)

I hear bells and strings and laughter. I hear the sound of falling water, and engines, and restless hearts. I feel the stirrings of some underground subterranean ache that was birthed long ago in the very heart of this place.

I hear this city. I love this city. I AM this city. So broken, forgotten, abandoned, yet found and tenderly cared for, though it/I doesn't/don't even know it.

I am green, I am a constant drizzle of thought, emotion, turning inside.

I am a cloudy day and oh my god, when I'm sunny, how glorious am I!

I am brokenness, I am healing, I am poor and I am dirty, but I am loved.

I am a childs' laughter, the friendly bark of a dog.

I am the center without knowing it.

I am happiness in running, I am loneliness personified, I am rejection, and I am rejected.

I pray when I ache and ache to pray. I cry, I sing, I don't laugh enough.

I am the beauty in the trees, the seasons become me, though the rainy ones are longer than most.

I am wisdom, I am light, I am warmth, I am a big fat fight. Wouldn't you like to be me?

I am the cramp in your hand when you are trying to write, I'm the music on the page that holds the secret to your favorite song, but you can't read.

I am a loud boisterous voice of profanity, I am the clanging bells of alarm, I am early morning sanity, and late afternoon breakdowns.

I am a pumpkin patch, warm and green, but lumpy.

I am autumn, I am spring, I am winter and I love to sing. Call me summer when you are wet and cold and I'll wrap around you like your favorite coat.