Categories
Poetry

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
Life

Giving Back

What did I actually do for others, apart from give them my love? What did I do to help lift their burdens, to help them maximise their true life potential by easing (or helping to expand) life for them in some small, practical way. There were openings and offerings on occasion, of course, but I never did figure out how practical kindness worked when it was outwards facing and flowing.

The practical part was where I tended to get stuck. I’d have a beautiful, heart-warming idea and then I would find some excuse not to follow through. Partly it was because I was (cough: am) a massive procrastinator. More often than not, though, my practical kindness was thwarted by selfishness.

During the time I was separated from my husband — during the very little money part, during the very little time part, during the depression part — I found myself needing to accept the help of others, really for the very first time in my adult life. And, finally, I learned the importance of being there for others.

I did my Pop’s garden, today—I’m ashamed to say, for the first time (usually I’d leave it to my aunties and uncles). But today, I bought the most beautiful statue I could find at the gardening shop, plonked her in the garden bed by the back door, and pruned until a lovely halo of flowers surrounded her soft-grey concrete. Here I was using my kindness and creativity to practically help my most cherished humans. And I knew it was right.

Usually I’d just sit there on family visits, and we’d have tea, and we’d chatter and laugh, and I’d go home feeling beautifully fulfilled and very much loved. Quite selfishly fulfilled, I would say, looking back, now. Today, though, I gave back. And it truly did feel like I had come home.

My Nan was the gardener of the family. She had the softest, kindest heart, with a great big burst of generosity and passion coursing through her soul, and she loved that garden just as much as she loved her family. Roses were her favourite. And now they are mine, probably because they were hers.

So I’m going to make it my mission (well, one of them) to put all my heart and soul into that garden. For my family. Because I love them so dearly, and because they’ve given and given and given to me, in more ways than I’d ever be able to recall.

It’s my turn, now, to give back.

So I will.

Photo by Maksim Goncharenok on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Rain

Maybe

this whole time

instead of running away from the rain

we should have been running into it

asking it questions,

like:

‘If you can feed the green under my feet—

what is it, rain, that you can do for me?’

woman in white shirt with green background
Photo by Anastasiya Lobanovskaya on Pexels.com

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 26. Days Like These

Dear world—you’ve really gone and done it this time.

Just look at all the sun-drenched wonder you’ve strung about my life today; I mean, really.

What is it that you do to me? How is it that you fill my heart with so much glitter and starlight?

And you don’t even seem to try.

Darling, darling days, like these.

That’s how.

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What a gift this day was for the little boy who swung, and slid and jumped.

For the toddler girl who ran and ran and ran, like the cutesie bubble of dynamite she is.

For the Dad who sipped coffee like liquid gold, and lifted his face to the warmth of the sun.

What a gift it was for me, too.

And probably for the fairies. (Don’t tell me you don’t believe in fairies, now.)

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Autumn does this to me, you know.

Takes my heart in her hand and rings it like a hand-bell.

Shakes me up in a cup of her magic dust—cut from the moon and the sun and the stars…

And leaves.

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And more leaves.

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Who knows what that magic is, dear world. I bet you don’t even know, yourself.

But it’s just so beautiful.

And gentle.

Like a breeze that fills the air with the song of the birds.

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Darling days.

Never did I think they could be so sweet, but here we are, once again.

A day so darling and bright.

A day to fill this heart of mine to overflowing.

It really has been that darling.

And…maybe a little random, too.

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The darling blog of May