Wondering about that second cookie.
It exists, should I eat it?
If I eat it, it will still be all it was
before I gobbled it down.
New shape.
Different texture.
Same ingredients, same everything else.
Should I eat the cookie?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Maybe.
Music brought me undone again, today.
Unravelled. Beautifully. Thoroughly.
And though it’s not a surprise that music can so easily undress my soul, it is often a surprise to feel the way it surges and dances through my body.
How it grabs hold of my belly, my arms, my legs, and drags itself upwards.
How it grounds me. So deeply, so powerfully I could never fly away.
I don’t know why this happens to me.
All I know is that it is profoundly beautiful.
And I’m grateful.
I’m really so far beyond grateful.
How beautiful,
to know there is love.
There is love.
There is
love.
It would be okay,
I believe,
If you were to make a wish
and put it in your pocket.
It would be okay,
especially so,
if the wish was sweet.
For a wish made carefully
is often much sweeter
if forgotten
(in a pocket)
and found
somewhere along the drifting line
of life.
Somewhere lovely,
of course.
Somewhere really quite lovely,
I would think.
Good morning, sun.
And good morning to the girl
who sits quietly and smiles,
amused by it all.
Ah, the loveliness.
There it is again.
As smooth as the drifting river,
as quiet as the song of a mother
to the sky.
Lovely loveliness.
The sweetest of all the dreams.
Where do thoughts go
once we have thought them?
Where does the wind go
once the storm has passed?
And why do so few wonder about life,
why do they not ask more
magical questions?
Like where do thoughts go?
(And the wind: are they together, somewhere?)
And how is it that these words
came to be called
words
when there is surely
a deeper dimension to language
and life
that will never be captured
by labels
and concepts.
I’d like to find the sunshine
beneath my pillow, when I wake.
And I will cup it in my hands,
and I will hold it close and whisper:
‘Shine, sweet little light.
Shine ever brightly,
might the pathway ahead
light and walk with me.
The Christmas spirit never dies.
The Christmas spirit is forever and always,
so why put it away?
Do we not become our best selves
whilst wrapped in the spirit of Christmas?
Me thinks we do.
And so it is
I ask again:
why do we put it away?
Why do we put
the love
away?
How lovely.
The wind of peace.
Here.
Now.
My
how lovely.
