Categories
Poetry

Love

It is a beautiful thing

to know love.

To feel it

burning,

aching,

glowing;

how I have known love

is as small as an hour born

of its grand, magnificent day.

I have loved in many ways.

Is there a garden I am yet to find?

A moment still to spring

upon the delicate plough of yesterday?

I am certain there is more to come.

I shall wait for it by the gate

where the red roses wither

and the daffodils wake

in sweet tufts

of two.

Categories
Poetry

Yes, No, Life

Am I a good

and proper

human.

Yes.

No.

Life.

Categories
Inspiration

I Believe

I believe you can do that thing

you think you can’t do.

I believe.

I do.

I believe in you.

Categories
Poetry

Gypsy

I see the world,

and I know it has been named

by those who came before me.

Who have I become

(or not become)

because of what they have shown me?

Voices claiming to guide are often sour

to my ears.

The world is alive,

delicate,

beautiful,

when my gypsy heart flies

free.

I see the world.

I name it for myself.

Categories
Poetry

Just A Rose

A rose is just a rose

to those who choose

not to know her.

Categories
Poetry

She

I am the wind,

and she is the earth

that knows me.

Categories
Life

It’s Not Self Care. It’s Living. Beautifully.

We tend to just do things, don’t we, without thinking too much of it. We go places, we see people. But do we really go places? Do we really see people? Most importantly, I suppose: do we do this life as we’d truly like to, from the absolute quiet of who we are?

There was a great chunk of my life where I didn’t follow the quiet voice that, only ten minutes ago, whispered to me: ‘Grab a candle, your computer, a cup of lavender tea. Go and sit on the couch. And Brooke? Dim the lights, will you?’

This voice, of course, belonged to me. The Soft Girl, to be specific, and how lovely it was to feel her presence in the quiet of the evening (the Soft Girl is the name I’ve given to my intuition/spirit for those of you who are new, here.) 🙂

Of course, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t interject with a teeny little side-note, to take us deeper into things. Self Care is the label most would glue to what I am currently doing with my body, my soul, my evening. But as the memory of the Soft Girl’s whisper returns to me (it was as I reached for the tea bag, if you’re wondering) I find myself rejecting this label, slightly.

Living fully, it seems, is what I am actually doing. Hearing the whispers and living them all the way through.

To me, the current collective perspective of Self Care implies a lack of something, a need for something nice to fill the spaces in between it all. For example, we often say: I’m so tired. I lack time. I lack energy. I am going to gift myself a beautiful little slice of Self Care because I lack all the above things.

The thing is this, though: don’t we all deserve to live a beautiful, care-filled existence simply because we are alive? Don’t we deserve the deeper level of care we innately have to offer ourselves, because our hearts have asked for it, and for no other reason?

I think we do.

So I’m going to start listening more carefully to the Soft Girl’s whispers, and gifting myself life to the fullest, whenever I can.

I so hope you do, too, my sweet bloggy friends.

You deserve it. Because you’re you.

xx Brooke

Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Just Because

And then she roared again.

Just because.

Categories
Poetry

All I Know

All I know is my heart.

All I know

is when it stretches

and when it breaks,

the same words return

and return

and return:

I love you, anyway.

Categories
Poetry

Eternally

This silence

is the cloud I fall upon

when I don’t know where to fly.

How beautiful

just to float.

Here.

Now.

Eternally.