Categories
Life

Life, Ever Fragile

The fragility of life can be truly shocking.

There’s a beautiful line from a Sarah Barellies song called, ‘She used to be mine’.

It goes like this:

Sometimes life just slips in through the back door, and carves out a person, and makes you believe it’s all true.

It makes me think of how funny we all are. How we travel along believing we’re very much in control until suddenly we realise…we never were in control. Not ever. At all.

Perhaps we maintain the beautiful illusion of control, quite well, but ultimately when life steps in and presents its aching quiet…all we can do is look at it peacefully and understand: this is.

Life, ever fragile.

Always beautiful.

In fact, it’s the darkness that shows us what light is.

It is our fragility that shows us our strength.

It is our failures that show us the right way forward.

And it is anger, fear, hate that shows us how deeply beautiful surrender is.

How deeply beautiful love is.

Life frightens me, sometimes, but peace is the shining puddle I look for beneath every rainy day.

I feel it, now.

I feel it, now.

Sending sooooo much love, however life may be swaying you, lovely bloggy friends.

Always, so much love, from me.

xx

Photo by Rachel Xiao on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Now They Are One

Shadow dancer on the wall.

Darling of light and form.

A body.

A wall.

Each but a fragment of life

until they find each other.

Now they are one, yes.

Now they are one.

Categories
Poetry

Tomorrow’s Sweet Sun

How sweet it is, dear life.

To choose better, without handing a cup of pain to another.

To know my worth and to ask equal to its value without hesitation: a true gift from the whirling, twirling invisible world of all.

I have a choice, is what life has shown me. To kindly and carefully choose a brighter day. To say thank you but no, this does not work for me.

To seek compromise fairly

or else

gracefully capture

tomorrow’s sweet sun.

Categories
Poetry

Ballerina

I was a ballerina in a past life.

Of course, I can’t be certain.

But as I look in the mirror,

lift my arms, tilt my neck—

I know this place,

this grace.

And sometimes I wonder why.

person wearing ballet shoes
Photo by Kuya Yus on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

It Is A Gift

It is a gift.

An open heart

spun into ebony lace:

words.

So much more than what they seem.

The chance to see,

and believe

that anything is possible,

always.

No matter how wild the wind

on a quiet sea.

Close your eyes.

Never forget this kiss,

this treasure on the tip of your nose,

on the flat of your forehead.

It is safety, it is home.

The softness that whistles

the voice of all things.

Listen.

It is a gift.

family decorating their christmas tree
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Poetry

The Day Moon

When the day moon shines

from its blue morning home,

I reach into the quiet

and feel

once again

the tender, sweet moments

of yesterday.

illustration of moon showing during sunset
Photo by David Besh on Pexels.com