words are not always given form… but constantly echo through my mind.
words are not always given form… but constantly echo through my mind.
insecurities are rooted in a place that rarely sees the light.
My 16 year old cat died this past Saturday night. She was declining– and clearly ready to depart. I knew Thursday when she stopped eating and spent all day in the backyard under a tree that she was clear in her decision to go. I told both of my kids when they arrived home from school that …
I never read the rules for mothering it seems I was absent that day– perhaps all of us were. Carrying around the textbook burden of guilt, the weight of which mocks our shortcomings and reveals the all-too constant truth that we’re just winging it. Each new day, another brave face– scooping up the pieces …
timelessness emerges existing next to you. a span of hours, days– one tender moment folded into lifetimes spent chasing shadows and resurrecting structures. mapping this careful framework entrusted to none but ourselves. the understated pageantry of a life unfolding small moments witnessed– all access granted to the one whose willingness to engage is unsurpassed. …
there are poems in my bones words woven through and around the sinews of my muscles– verbose tendons and loquacious ligaments. phrases which will their way to my mind– narrating an unfolding pathway– letters, lit up like lamp posts along a winding stretch familiar monuments, comforting sentiments, breeding ease– an allowance; cultivating breath …
what happens when you take away your reaction? is there nothing left?
there’s no mystery to your magic– it is felt by all those you touch.
the unguarded pleasure of your unfettered love granted in fits and spurts– boundaries demolished and resurrected in the span of a single breath– shadows hovering and descending this infinite perspective that has always been patiently waiting for my prying, stubborn eyes and willful, unrelenting mind. An existence within emotion– dancing feelings, tidal waves …
I remembered several of my dreams last night. That rarely happens to me. As I drove to work this morning I found myself going over them in my head. This evening, there’s one that’s still there– the others having been relegated to my subconscious mind where they generally dwell. The one that’s still with me …
the edges of myself 