Categories
Poetry

Forever Home

Sorrow is quiet and soft.

How strange, that during the saddest times, the quiet is the loudest voice of all.

Tonight, I send my voice into the stillness.

To honour the love and the sorrow that lingers when we lose our most precious hearts.

Quiet, the place where unconditional love floats free.

Peace. Our soft and gentle, forever home.

Categories
Life

Life Beyond

I know when I am talking to a persons soul.

There is no feeling wider, deeper, more beautiful than to sit beside a friend and know them beyond their human story.

The vastness of them.

The invisible wonder; felt, yet unseen.

No feeling I’d rather choose. No place I’d rather be.

I try not to reject the aspects of humanity that never can reach the boundless home our spirits connect in: the place I find the shine in peoples eyes.

But how could life without that shine ever compare to the deep blue sea of a wide open soul?

I am addicted to my souls home.

I miss it, and my soul people, when I am not there.

Life is beyond anything I could ever think to complain about, though.

Life is beyond anything I could ever think.

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Categories
Motherhood

A Beautiful Mess

This messy home,

an incorrectness:

something broken

needing to be fixed.

The wars we rage inside ourselves

just to keep control,

to maintain clean,

to maintain ‘right.’

It is a mistake of the eyes

and the heart

not to see the true beauty

of a home:

messy, chaotic,

beautifully lived in.

These crumbs on the floor.

They are not bad or wrong.

They are a reminder of my children.

How lucky I am to have them at all.

This beautiful mess a child does bring.

Mess is life.

And though a pristine home

is a gift to be treasured,

so is this mess.

This mess of sweet

imperfect

life.

Categories
Life

Home Alone

I’m home alone, tonight.

And when I say I’m home alone, I mean my children are here, my husband is not.

And when I say my husband is not, I mean I’ve been keeping a secret, and that secret is that for some weeks now, my husband has been my husband again. Married. All the way through, once more.

In other words, our year and a bit apart has come to a close.

We’ve decided to stay together.

When my heart woke and began to glow for everything and everyone, it became apparent that the love between me and my very own body-mind-heart-soul was the only love I’d ever truly need. And so why choose a new man who could never be perfect. Why not choose the same old lovely one, who I could work with, grow with, be with, knowing I am fully loved and beautifully cared for. Imperfect, he is. Just like his wildly creative, highly emotional wife.

This feeling that the sun shines from my heart: it’s shown me that no man will ever be perfect, no relationship completely shiny. As I lay alone all those many nights (often loving the single life, often really quite lonely, actually, and aching for the parts of our old life that were no longer available to my children in quite the same way) I wondered if the shine I sometimes saw in my eyes meant that I was home. And if so, was I now solid enough within my new found self to go back to my other home?

Home: the place my babies wouldn’t miss their Dad.

Home: the place that held me, knew me, loved me.

Home. To the guy I’d forgotten I loved so dearly.

Until I remembered, again.

I’m home now.

I’m home now.

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Categories
Poetry

Sleep

Each moment is new and beautiful in my eyes.

This heart has been touched

by the wind of change

enough to know that everything begins

but nothing ends.

Not really.

Not really.

And so I sleep in the arms of the one I love,

knowing I am safe,

knowing I am home.

Knowing nothing has ended

or broken.

Knowing that everything goes on

and on

and on.

Categories
Poetry

Today

I have found myself, today.

Once again I am everything I am.

I am the passionate stroke of theatre,

and the softest touch of poetry.

My colours are pastel:

peach and mauve,

whimsical tendrils

and earthy wooden grain.

I am woman,

and I am the ocean.

I am life

and I am love.

This day.

Authentically beautiful.

I shall sip on it and call it home.

Categories
Poetry

A Story

It smells like a roast

but it feels like a story

of love,

of a garden,

and of home.

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Categories
Poetry

Sail With Me

And surely as the river

of the sky soothes me,

every star of this night

will sail with me

home.

Categories
Poetry

Home

Home is in this house.

The quiet of my love for them.

The dreams of my essence, racing into a fresh new world.

Home, you are my refuge.

Family, you are my home.

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
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