A touch
A glance
A whisper
A care.
Falling in love is simple and easy.
And happens over and over again.
My heart is full of emotion
I work to make space to contain what I need of it
And let the rest overflow into something tangible -
A poem, a painting, a look.
Honest words.
How can I share the way I'm feeling?
Is there a way to recreate the depth?
Receiving something heartfelt from another requires attention and vulnerability, too.
Are you willing to open up to it?
At what point
Did you begin
Taking care of
Yourself
For the sake
Of
Yourself?
To hold more
Love
And
Life.
What does the pain uncover?
Where do I stand if I never began?
How do I face it
And not feed it?
Boundary lends a path.
Space invites epiphany.
My breath and story live within.
Do you have the
capacity to see someone as they are.
Their unique channel of feeling loved.
And send some in their direction?
Are you able to let yourself be seen.
Aware of how you receive love.
And openly let it in?
Expand to connect.
Feeling cared for
Can be as simple as
Being considered
When decisions are made.
I got a mammal with floppy ears to protect me.
His furry body is armor against over thinking.
His wagging tail a sword that cuts off apathy.
And his warm body a barricade against loneliness.
Connection is love and love is connection.
What does it mean to be imperfect?
Embracing each crack in your wholeness.
Integrating tarnish into your being.
To be imperfect is to be vulnerable.
To show up sincerely as yourself.
Facing imperfection, without flaunting it, is nearly perfect.
come back to it, dear.
the warm intention you set
and then lost track of.
amble there with love.
reminded why you began.
believing in life.
Love is in the waiting.
Joy is in the surprise.
In gratitude, you’ll find hope.
Yesterday I saw you hear me.
Your eyes were big, brown.
Taking in what I was sending out.
It feels like my heart finally split.
Cracked for a while,
But with a full view and forgiveness, the levy let go into something more soft.
With more space to see and love. More room to receive and take in.
Open, but still cautious of when to weave up.
I miss the water.
The same way I miss being a young girl.
The same way I miss leaning into my friend.
The same way I miss that time that was hard, but it really wasn’t.
I miss it the same way I long for my tiny hairs to stand up from the energy of the warmth and balminess of our skin touching.
I miss the buoyancy, I miss the sun.
I miss being carried away, light as a feather, across the depth, weight, and mystery.
And at the pace of a bear or a butterfly, I will not sit and wait, but rather, I will seek and find the things that are facing me.
They face the sun.
The mammoth flowers that grow taller than me. With dark, round faces and bright pedaled hair. Their stems are long, strong, and life giving.
The hills were plowed and seeds were planted. We gazed in awe and wonder as to what miracle God was unfolding.
The sun-loving dancers gradually rose - radiant and captivating. They bounce to and fro’, stable and confident in their stem they grow.
In resolve for a life that was lost, they gleam.
Their bumbling wind-blown rhythms exude hope
And celebrate grace rising from dark things.
Awake with joy
Plants dance
Not competing or comparing
Confident in uniqueness
Let’s be honest like the springtime.
Divinely placed
Trusting
Roots growing deep, twined together
Sharing light, showing glory
Let’s be honest like the springtime.
Candid
Flaws transparent
Epiphany of a gracious Creator.
Let’s be honest like the springtime
swamp fox daydream
giving up the woodlands
taking in the marshy coast
bringing the kayaks, pottery wheel,
and man I love the most
breathing in salty air
moisture on my skin
trading in sweet rainbow trout
for fish with harder fins
twisted oaks, locks of spanish moss
fiddler crabs and palmetto bugs
screened porches and sandy ground
a wetlandish film
covering the people and town
I’m giving up the woodlands
taking in the marshy coast
see you when you get here
I’ll cook up some plantains and indigo toast
One room. Two zipper doors. A screen roof. And nylon walls.
Our first home will always be full of promise.
Promise of lightning bug lullabies and soul sought adventures.
Beauty comes in the form of nature’s surprise.
Live in our own cloud.
Love the volume of your heart.
Dancing in the sky.
i imagine my heart as a ripe strawberry.
swollen with life and unrefined sugar
circling sweet goodness all the way to my fingers and toes.
i imagine my brain as a cumulus cloud.
fluffy and filled with precipitation.
anxious to cycle through the nearest puddle of thought.
my cloud brain and strawberry heart team
up to remind me that life happens best under
the blue sky.
the man who fishes
with a fly is patient
and kind and thoughtful.
he wades through the water
looking for a beautiful treasure.
and he waits for it.
he is keen and aware.
the sharp, cold water doesn’t cause him to stray.
he learns from it.
he commits.
there are laugh lines around his eyes
and a warm blanket around his heart.
when he holds the fish he holds it close enough
to keep it safe and loose enough to watch it move.
the same way we should hold each other.
the river is shallow
and the rocks are clear
the steps are easy
and you are near
the river is deep
and strong and unexpected
it could wash you away
but we will stay connected