Ah, the loveliness.
There it is again.
As smooth as the drifting river,
as quiet as the song of a mother
to the sky.
Lovely loveliness.
The sweetest of all the dreams.
Categories
Categories
This Great Love
I am the soft of you
and you are the soft of me.
There is nothing
that taints this great love.
Nothing,
not even the words
you cannot say
while I stare,
while I marvel at your majesty
and blooming life.
Sweet nature.
Sweet love of my life.
I see you, darling.
Categories
Holidays and Summer Wind
Australian summer and there I was, sipping a glass of wine beneath the gumtrees, wrapped in my best winter scarf and topped with a little woolen hat. The wind: shocking.
It’s not unusual for the country town we’re holidaying in to reach these frosty temperatures at night. I’m certain we’ll look back in years to come with fond memories of swaying gums and whirls around the caravan park on bikes, but I also think we’ll marvel at Mother Nature and her wacky sense of humour. During the day, it is not unusual for the temperature to reach forty degrees celsius and beyond, some years, and yet the blankets come out when the sun falls. It’s quite funny, really.
It reminds me of Melbourne (my hometown) and her ability to display every single aspect of all four seasons in one day. The rest of Australia laughs at our expense, but the truth is: Melbournians gladly identify with this peculiar trick of the weather. We happily declare it one of our most impressive party tricks.
I’m breezy and happy, today. After a solo journey back to Melbourne, earlier, to celebrate my beautiful Grandma’s 90th birthday (and a nice big heart-opening drive back, listening to music) I’m so grateful for all the experiences that have brought me here. To this place in my life, I mean. Not just to this dodgy little caravan park in the middle of nowhere.
I am reminded of the worth of life experience each time I feel the beautiful glow of wholeness beneath my skin. Each time I feel the spirit rise within me; the times I’m ready, and quite able, to speak the truths my heart knows to be absolute. I am not perfect. Life is not perfect, and never will be. But I am here, and I am grateful for these exhausting family days (and even you lot fall upon the grateful-o-metre of me…aww, sigh. Like, really, you guys. x) so a girl couldn’t ask for much more to help drift me through my days.
Right. Off to drink my tea and snuggle up with, what is turning out to be, one lovely heart-filling book.
So much love, sweet bloggy friends.
Eat the cake. xx
Categories
Magical Questions
Where do thoughts go
once we have thought them?
Where does the wind go
once the storm has passed?
And why do so few wonder about life,
why do they not ask more
magical questions?
Like where do thoughts go?
(And the wind: are they together, somewhere?)
And how is it that these words
came to be called
words
when there is surely
a deeper dimension to language
and life
that will never be captured
by labels
and concepts.
I’d like to find the sunshine
beneath my pillow, when I wake.
And I will cup it in my hands,
and I will hold it close and whisper:
‘Shine, sweet little light.
Shine ever brightly,
might the pathway ahead
light and walk with me.
Categories
Christmas Love Hearts
Dearest Bloggy friends,
Merry day, to you all. Just taking a moment to send you all the love hearts (because I can’t seem to stop myself- and because love hearts are the best).
To those of you struggling to make it through the joy of the season: it’s okay to cry. Please do. How beautiful it will feel to release.
To those of you who have found joy and more: I’m so pleased for you. Life is for living, and joy is one of the most beautiful seasons.
To the parents: rest. It really will be okay.
And to the rest of you: yes. I do think you should have that extra slice of cake.
Lots and lots of love, Brooke. xxx
Categories
The Christmas Spirit
The Christmas spirit never dies.
The Christmas spirit is forever and always,
so why put it away?
Do we not become our best selves
whilst wrapped in the spirit of Christmas?
Me thinks we do.
And so it is
I ask again:
why do we put it away?
Why do we put
the love
away?
Categories
A Little More Than This
I do not care to be seen.
I do not wish to scramble,
do not wish to fight my way
to the top
to be seen,
to be loved
a little more than this.
Perhaps I should try harder
to care.
Perhaps I should wish
that I might choose,
one day,
to fight like them
until I have been
chosen
and loved.
A little more than this.
Categories
How Lovely
How lovely.
The wind of peace.
Here.
Now.
My
how lovely.
Categories
This Is It
Death, I suppose, does that to us. It’s one of those accidental growth inducing things that none of us actually want, but do end up getting from time to time. Lessons in perspective. Lessons in gratitude, these are just some of the positives that can come from death knocking on our doors. But today, death has broken me. And my empath metre is still reeling.
I’ve just read an article written by a Mum recounting her five-year-old sons final days. Cancer. To say I struggled to hold myself together wouldn’t be accurate. To say I fell to pieces is absolutely correct. What a devastating, devastating thing: to lose a child, and yet people do experience this sort of loss in life, and far too often for my liking.
I felt I owed it to that precious little man to reiterate the message his beautiful, heartbroken (positively grace-filled) Mum put out into the world, on behalf of her little boy. To live and love, is surely the greatest gift. To live now, to be grateful for this. What’s here. What’s out the window and how beautiful it is. To see that it’s pointless fussing over the little things, when there are even more little things to honour and cherish in this mixed bag of a life we live.
This Mum. She was given a beautiful gift, in the end, when her son’s final words were: ‘I am happy Mum.’ I am happy, Mum. It makes you think how dumb we are worrying about the extra weight we might put on over the holiday period, doesn’t it? It makes you think that, in the end, all we’re really here for is to realise nothing matters but the people we love, and love itself.
Anyhow, I should stop this because it’s going to take me down, again, but I think I’ve said it all, anyway. Most of you already know the way I view life. It is short and beautiful, and we have one chance.
One sweet, sweet, chance.
This is it.
This is it.
This is it.
