Sunday a.m. at Transition Camp

Written on the trail in the wilderness therapy program I worked for in the Utah desert.

People without issues—
Do they really exist?

I’m so grateful for this sun

Self-imposed limitations
I hold myself back

I just heard the wind under a crow’s flapping wings

Whiosh whiosh whiosh whiosh whiosh whiosh whiosh

Lies I tell myself
Then I believe them

It’s kind of funny how my student

is pacing around the rocks of his personal circle,
stepping carefully
on their

uneven surfaces

I am an uneven surface
I step carefully around my issues

Squawk squawk squawk squawk squawk

Get real.
It’s liberating.

The sun’s behind a cloud

I’m colder

Reality can be cold

My heart?
I'm warming

April Murdock
10.8.06

Exhilaration 2 (What I Thought Was Exhilarating Has A New Flavor)

It is cold out, and my nose is dripping
It’s kind of hot, too, but I’m not sweating
My eyes are both watery and dry—can that be possible?

I’ve got the gear now and I look the part
Bright red jumpsuit with orange and yellow side stripes
(Even puffy fin things lining the sides)
Helmet is on, red goggles too
Sad I forgot my cape,
But what can I do?

With an Iraqi (he said he’s Turkish)
Strapped to my back
Pushed out of a plane
No time for a heart attack

Falling fast as the rain
Wind blasting my face
The straps choke my neck
Like a paraplegic brace

I need to remember to breathe
The view is so incredible
No time to think
Until air fills the chute full

Faris calls me “honey”
and asks if I’m all right
He fixes my straps
so they aren’t quite so tight

We spin in a circle
“I like that!” I shout
He hardly hears me
I’m not concerned I’ll fall out

“Honey, I don’t want you to throw up”
He explains
But maybe he’s the one who gets dizzy
My stomach is thrilled and I want to keep spinning

Floating ever so gently
Over a vast mountain valley
We descend from 13,000 feet
Until we find ourselves standing

110 mph is so much better than 40
I always loved it on the way up
Until I tasted it falling

April Murdock
9.15.06

Four Years Later I’m Still Testosterone-Deficient but I Don’t Got the Blues
(a.k.a. Patience)

Four years later some things haven’t changed
I’m still that wisely innocent chick who’s almost got it all—
Minus her soulful romantic

I still listen to sappy love songs
Singing loudly all the time
I know all the doo-wops
And I’ve memorized the lines

But I don’t worry I’m defective
I know I’m all right
Pretty amazing, actually—
Just like everyone else

I can be myself with anyone I meet
It’s liberating and free not to worry what they think

I’ve actually learned to talk
I’m more open now
Willing to take a risk
And to tell him he’s “WOW!”

Some say I even flirt, while I think I’m fun and friendly
Not playing a manipulative game where people are fake and get hurt

That’s as far as I’ve got—
Still nothing serious for me,
Which always shocks people who hear
My lips retain their virginity

I like to laugh and tell jokes
Though I’m not super funny
(I’ve had to pray for a sense of humor
And I work hard for my money)

So through all the years I’ve been growing a lot
Collecting many stories of my adventures and thoughts

Love might be slow,
But I’m not behind
It’s a good life I live
As I’m being refined

Yes, this wisely innocent chick
Is still testosterone-deficient
But do I have the blues?
No, I’m just more patient

April Murdock
9.15.06

Exhilaration

It’s not cold out, but my nose is dripping
It’s not hot either, but I’m sweaty
My eyes are streaming with tears, but I’m not sad
Sporting flip-flops and my bandana, I might look tough but not hardcore—
no spandex or helmet for me
Drivers must hate me—I think I’m reckless
But 40 mph downhill on two wheels is exhilaration enough to risk it
And the uphill climb is even more fun

April Murdock
8.24.06