I haven't stopped to wait for words in a while. I think they've grown shy, unsure of my ability to hear the songs of the muses that once flooded my ears. I've been busy. With all the great obstacles and opportunities that have made my story these past years. But I'm here. I may flit and flutter out and in like a butterfly upon a feast of flowers and, when full, take a long rest. I do my best. I've been busy. But I'm here.
This warm evening, softened by air thick with summer's breath, will be with me forever... Your hand in mine, fingers not yet long enough to intertwine, holding steady ready to encounter a new piece of the world. Your rubber rainboots, still a size too big, clumping on the pavement with each step. This is an adventure they'd never been on before. We weren't alone. The frogs sang excitedly nearby, voices jumping over one another in a bubbly cacophony, and every so often a car rushed past trying to beat the setting sun. Then there was one. A flicker. A single sparkle at the edge of the wood, the limelight we were searching for. And then slowly...there were more... Playing twilight twinkle hide and seek as we rushed to guess where they might fly next. I wish you were here when they were as plentiful as clouds in the sky. The years have seen fewer and fewer dance their summer lullaby. This warm evening, softened by air thick with summer's breath, will be with me forever...
Healing is revealing to yourself the parts of you, you saved away for another, less busy, less crazy day that never came. Healing is releasing for yourself fear, unseen obstacles; the hesitation of full participation in each moment. Healing is slow, sometimes frustratingly so, it's letting go, and getting to know what's inside of your heart. Healing is a special art.
This morning dawned a little different than before. I felt a whisper brush across me and knew that change had come. That life, if it had ever really settled, was once again to be undone. The lesson of the season had been to open up my eyes and rediscover what I'd lost as truth unraveled her disguise. What you think- you see- you feel...and it is so. Perhaps the path was hard because I could not, would not let go Of thoughts, of things, of old routines of endless lists of goals and dreams of future moments And in between... I lost the here and now. And when you live outside the present you scatter yourself somehow. So as the sun called out to me, to come and greet the day, I knew it was time to pick up the pieces and try another way.
I made a wish and blew a kiss and sent it to the stars. I wished upon some candle flames and on all the pennies in my jar. I dreamed a dream upon a flower and sent the petals floating in the wind. I wrote a hope inside a note and sent the bottle for a swim. I took a fallen eyelash and sent it flying in the breeze. I spoke my hopes to all the leaves dancing on the trees. And all those wishes and all those dreams, though they took a while, come true for me, every time you smile.
You sit upon my shoulders and try to weigh me down with muscles that tighten and make it hard to move around. You sneak into my jaw, my cheeks, my lips, my teeth sitting quietly while you stew just underneath. Then moving... You grip and squeeze my head setting fire to my mind shooting sparks inside my eyes igniting pain, leaving nothing far behind. I should have learned by now just how to conquer you, I should be on to all your tricks this isn’t something new. Maybe I’m too rushed or there’s more I need to learn about patience, calm, balance... as once again you burn setting stones upon my shoulders throbbing ache inside my jaw stabbing at my eyes and I wait for the medicine to work and the pain to finally thaw, release me, give me another turn to see if, maybe this time, my lesson I have learned.
One can be dangerous. One can be the difference between pleasure and pain, as willpower lost is hard to regain. As balance teeters and control peters out, one can sow seeds of fear and of doubt... or One can be hope filled, one can be the difference to getting closer to a dream, a tiny step forward not always felt or seen. One can change the pattern, disrupt the rhythm, break the mold; one can change the old to new and make way for fresh stories to be told. One is a possibility, a pathway, a chance. One is an opportunity, a decision, a stance. One is limiting and freeing. Take care in every 'one' encountered as they shape destinies.
One day I wont remember why, at 1 a.m., you woke me just to say hello again. To look into my eyes, to snuggle, to hold my shaky hand... I won’t remember just how small you were as you conducted all my moves with grunts and squirms and fussy cries full of attitude. I won’t remember arching my aching back or how heavy my eyelids were as the numbers on the clock flicked past and melted into a reddened blur. I won’t remember how you curled up closer and closer to me growing warmer, softer, heavier as once again you grew sleepy. I won’t remember all the details of these long and sleepless nights my memory will dim as if shutting off the lights... I know that this time is fleeting, that you’ll grow and need me no more, that there will come a day when I’d wish and I’d pray for a moment of these times from before. And I’ll remember the sleepiness, the unending effort, the uncertainties and doubt, the demand... And I’ll remember loving you, snuggling you, and holding your tiny and already growing hand.
like silken spider threads
I can see
but when I reach for it…
to keep the light
of endless searching
for the right
But so I must,
and so I do,
breaths in and out,
here and gone.
sunrises and sunsets
each unlike the other.
cycles of seasons
as impermanent as
footsteps by the ocean’s edge.