I live for days
where the smile that lives
in my heart
warms me like the sun
and sings me like the love song
I was always meant to be.
Categories
Smile Me A Love Song
Category: Poetry
There she is—
the girl in the frame on the wall.
A picture of a girl;
the softest smile
full of mischief and grace.
Love and kindness.
Hope and fear.
Joy. Sadness.
Dreams.
All of life
rolled into a girl…
who just happens to live in a frame on a wall.
Every day she fills her frame with a new dream;
a frame is the keeper of dreams
and she knows that as long as she stays within the frame
her dreams will never be broken.
But as she sits in the long grass, peering at the world outside
she wonders.
‘What if I venture beyond the frame?
What if I wish these dreams into the world,
and follow them as they go?’
She wonders, then she slowly rises.
And she takes a step.
Just one step
but already she knows she can’t go back;
It’s a knowing that tickles her bones.
Something has changed within her.
Suddenly she feels the sun on her skin,
feels a heart beating inside of her that wasn’t there before.
Suddenly she has wings
and her frame is empty,
hanging on a lonely wall
on the dark side of the rainbow.
Categories
A Way With Words
It’s quite certain
that when a person says to another person:
‘You have a way with words’,
it’s not the words themselves
that made the impact.
It’s the heart they fell out of,
and the way the heart coloured the words
so that they might flow
and ring ever so true
as they tumbled into the big wide world.
The world didn’t suddenly become more
beautiful.
Her soul woke up.
And finally
she saw everything.
Categories
Coming Home
Let this heart I wear
on my sleeve
draw all of its letters in the sand…
not just the ones I think
you
will like me for.
And in that sand, let there be
scribbles of the past, the present,
and the future;
a million perfect letters
tumbling all about my day
teaching me,
quite slowly,
just who it is I am meant to be.
I am no longer searching
for anything, or anyone.
Somehow
I just know.
I’ve found the thing
I never knew I needed to find.
A tiny home at the edge of my sleeve.
The rose began to wither, in
her heart of woven gold,
the ocean melted in her eyes
for stories never told.
The window shone the morning bright,
not once did she look there,
the darkness had become her and
the rose, at last, was bare.
The bluebirds flew about the day,
the air cut like a knife,
and all the while a single rose
lay weeping bloody life.
For no one knew the rose had died
and left a heart of black,
except the girl with ocean eyes;
a train run off the track.
The gardens coloured in the world
so full of joyous spring,
and daisies spread along the path
as death came wandering.
The children danced in rosie rings
while men laughed at the sky,
yet, there she lay upon the bed,
a light about to die.
And as the days became the years
her rose grew back once more,
a rose of black and white, this time;
a life unlike before.
-Brooke Cutler, 2018
brooke-cutler.com 