Categories
Sun and Moon

Best Friends

‘Sun?’

‘Yes, Moon?’ Sun dribbled out the corner of his frown, watching drearily as a group of star children skipped along a cloud.

‘When was the last time you laughed?’

‘Umm…Oh, I can’t remember, Moon. Too long ago.’

‘Sun?’

‘Oh, what is it, Moon?’

‘Your face is covered in red crayon. It’s a picture of a hotdog running after a cat running after a dog.’

‘Well, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And completely untrue. I’m perfectly shiny, thank you very much.’

‘Well, yes, you are. But you still have red crayon all over your face. I should know. I put it there,’ Moon grinned and gave a most spectacular sparkle.

‘What do you mean, you put it there?’

‘Well, Sun, you remember last week, don’t you? When you said: ‘Moon, when was the last time you laughed? And I told you I couldn’t remember…?’

‘Moon! There’s a giant shadow on the Earth, now. Look! It’s a hot dog running after a cat running after a dog!’

The best friends drew closer in the sky and gazed upon the newly decorated Earth.

And then the laughter came.

smiling women
Photo by Asya Cusima on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Micro Fiction

Lavender

They used to meet in the meadow and gather lavender.

How sweet it was to raise their faces and breathe.

How sweet it was, just to be.

Side by side.

Alive.

aroma aromatherapy aromatic basket
Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Inspiration

The Apple Tree Of Everything

This is the Apple Tree of Everything.

You may pick only one apple, today.

Hold it in your hand.

Look at it.

Really, look at this apple you have picked.

To say it is red is hardly enough.

There are black porous dots, scattered and bunched.

A deep red jacket of smooth and lumps— there is even a bruise.

This is your apple of the day.

Yours because you have picked it.

It is not perfect, but none of the apples on the tree are perfect.

For what is perfect when different is the only sameness the tree can offer.

This apple of yours is far from the ordinary you see.

And it is yours.

How completely beautiful.

green tree photo
Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

What Do You Need?

Let’s work this out together, bloggy friends. What can I give you? What do you need?

Ps: I’ve missed you. xx
Categories
Fable

Changed

The skies opened and the earth looked up.

‘My friend,’ said the dry earth, ‘is trying to drown me.’

Days passed.

The sky shone golden orange and the grass mounds of the south glistened, abundant in emerald foliage.

The earth looked to the sky, once more.

Changed.

Categories
Poetry

Serious

Why

so

serious?

When all you need to know is:

I am human.

So are you.

Why

paint our condition

with news voices

and walls that keep us

stuck

in the rat race

of clown face.

Have we become but heartless

statues

longing for the truth?

We are the truth.

We already are

the truth.

Categories
Poetry

Dissolved

I am a body.

But I am dissolved

by the blinding light

of destiny.

Here I spin,

longing to escape

the heavenly dream

that hurtles through the soft

and quick

of me.

Catch me, hold me still.

Oh, the aching,

catch me.

Hold

me

still.

Categories
Fable

Sun and Moon, Unconditionally

‘Sun?’

‘Yes, Moon?’

‘Why are the humans always so angry, do you think?’

‘Because Moon, they haven’t realised that, like us, they have the ability to shine.’

‘They do? So why don’t more of them shine, then? If they can, why don’t they?’

‘Moon…humans spend so much time telling angry stories, their shine gets lost beneath the mud of it all.’

‘Oh, Sun. That makes me so, so sad.’

‘Me too, Moon. It makes me sad, too.’

And as the night rose into the day, Moon and Sun continued to shine on the beautiful humans, without asking for anything in return.

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 14. Liberation

Crisp walls and lavender fresh linen. It was her mother who insisted on such drastic perfection and, until now, it had never occurred to Geraldine that life had the option to be anything other than perfect. She would be forty in a month, and although her Mother would not approve, Geraldine craved something more. Something wild. Something actually really quite bad.

She flung a leg out of the bath and breathed into her belly: hold one, two three…a cool, soothing wind on the out-breath. What if she did allow herself a regression to the grotty child that once she was? An ignorant small human, who far too often muddied the guest couch—and her mother’s delightfully manicured day. A child who, one day, would find the courage to tell her mother that the couch had been, in fact, the hills coming alive with the romping, stomping wonderful sound of music.

Darling,‘ her mother would say, through a smiling mouth and chainsaw eyes. ‘You must always be good.‘ Eventually, the words and the eyes had the desired effect, and Geraldine did, indeed, grow into the neatly folded girl her Mother had groomed her to be. Perfection in a girl, life under strict lock and key. Geraldine was the fly in the web of her mother’s high standards. Alive but not living. Rotting away under the critical eye of the long-legged other in her life.

Her bathrobe waited to give her a warm hug after the bath was over. What if she didn’t use it? What if she stood, dried, and walked about the house. Naked. She lived alone, but even so, free range nudity was a luxury afforded only to men, and those unfortunate women requiring external stimulation for the treatment of low self-esteem. Nudity— even solo nudity—was not for good girls.

Until, of course, it was.

Geraldine rose from the tub and reached for the gracefully folded towel that lay atop the sparkling white sink. Perfection died tonight. Her mother’s hold on her life died, all limbs bared, tonight.

The soft leather couch was like warm paint to her naked skin. Although the liberation of nudity felt wonderful, it was…still not enough. Geraldine needed more. And so it was, that more arose.

As if by some miraculous order of the universe, some equally trapped eternal wind searching for life, the doorbell rang.

Geraldine smiled.

She rose from the couch, without a beat, without a care.

Darling, indeed, she thought.

Darling, indeed.

 

 

Categories
Life

Some News and Some Waffling

Hello, my very bloggy friends. 🙂

How are you all? (We’re good, Brooke. How are you?) Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking. Ha ha ha. I’m being an idiot— I’ll shut up now. 😛

I’m popping in with the ‘me’ version of me to let you guys know I’m doing another ‘video thing’ on IGTV (Instagram) tonight, giving a writers perspective on The Catcher In the Rye. All the nerdy goodness, my gosh. 🙂 I’ve filmed the video already and will be uploading it tonight at about 8pm Aus. time, so feel free to check it out, if you’d like. 🙂 (the_Softgirl is my tag name.)

And guys…I was serious about the ‘how are you all?’ I hope everyone is staying safe, and feeling mentally fresh in the face of all of this muddy tar that’s been heaped onto us from virus land. I’ve been remarkably unaffected by the whole thing— basically because I choose not to watch the news (that and because I’m still in a bit of a spiral of my own mud that there’s not a lot of leftover space for me to indulge in collective aches and pains.)

I know and respect the realities of the situation, however, and I take precautions in order to keep myself and everyone else safe, but ultimately I feel like it’s my job to help lift people out of this thing. And If I’m taken down by other people’s fears, I’m no good to anyone, I don’t suppose.

Especially not my beautiful bubs, who so completely need their Mum on the tracks and chugging along. Speaking of my beautiful bubs, my little miss three-year-old split her forehead open on a door frame the other day. The gash was deep, you guys. Oh my goodness. My baby. Eight stitches and she smiled through the whole ordeal, the beautiful muffin. I’d so appreciate you sending her some super healing love hearts. x

Do I have any more nonsense to waffle? I don’t think so, but I’ve so loved this little waffle session— maybe I’ll come and do more waffling at you over the coming weeks. I really have felt an intense need to ‘be there’ for everyone, because I understand that people will be reacting differently to this whole thing. If I can entertain, or hold space, or just ‘be here’ for anyone who needs any or all the above needs met…I’m so ridiculously happy to do that.

I always miss you guys when I go floating off into Brooke- land.

And I’ll always, always cherish coming back to our special, quiet place.

xx Brooke

three women sitting on rock infront of ocean
Photo by Max Ravier on Pexels.com