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
Healing

Brave Face

I walk the streets listening to music that makes me cry.

I suppose I will do this until I have made peace with my past and become all that I am in this moment forever onwards, but for now, this is me: and me feels achingly beautiful. Like snow.

To walk the streets in this way, releasing newly risen anger and pain, is the gasp for breath I’ve needed to take for so long. Was I holding my breath, all those years? What did I do with anger and sadness before I learned to tie them in a ribbon of apricot sun?

I am no different to the one who reads this. Each of us travel through childhood gathering scars we will carry for the rest of our lives, or at least until we face them. I am facing mine, now.

I am feeling the anger and the pain.

I am also feeling a greater love than I’ve ever known.

For the sweet little girl I was, and still am in many ways.

For the beautiful people who loved me. How they nurtured my softness, how they pained to see it tarnished by the hardness of the world.

This is the gentle home of me.

Please, come in, just the way you are.

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Categories
Life

Sending A Cuddle

Hello my beautiful bloggy friends 🙂

Technically I’m still on my bloggy break, but I’ve been feeling an urge to reach out to you all and send some invisible flying cuddles, just incase you need them.

There is such thickness and density in the air at the moment, and I wanted to remind you that wherever you sit among the noise: you’re quite perfect, just the way you are.

If your petals are orange and all the rest of the flowers in the garden are pink: wonderful.You were born to be orange. So be orange.

So much love, bloggy friends.

I’ll be back next week, sometime.

xx Brooke

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Categories
Poetry

Each Day

May each day

bring each heart

a brand new shining sun.

Categories
Poetry

A Quiet Day

Today my heart is quiet.

And it knows deeply

that it has lived.

Categories
Life

Together

This morning I was taken back to the year 1997, when I sat glued to the television, hoping with all of my everything that a man named Stuart Diver would be rescued from beneath a mountain of rubble — the devastating result of a landslide at Thredbo: an Alpine Village in New South Wales, Australia.

The landslide at Thredbo broke the heart of just about every human in Australia, I’d go so far to say. Stuart was the sole survivor of the landslide that killed 18 people, including Stuart’s wife, Sally, who drowned in the rising icy waters beside him.

This post has no direct link to Stuart Diver and his shining human spirit, but it does have a few indirect links to (and hopefully a few reminders of) the magnificence of the human spirit. So I’m writing these words in honour of Stuart, and also in honour of every human who knows how beautiful it feels to shine through our dark times together.

Right now, twenty three years after Australia came together so beautifully for the good of one man, humanity finds ourselves in the united states of everyone hates each other. Just when we need each other the most.

What happened all those years ago, however tragic, was the most magical shining human thing I’d ever experienced. Aching life had brought us together. All of us. Every Australian, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, personality type: we all became one as we anxiously waited to see if our mate Stuart would pull through.

We cried real tears as we witnessed the beautiful bond between rescued and rescuer. We winced at the thought of Stuart’s journey beyond the rubble (which, tragically, only got worse before it got better when Stuart lost his second wife to breast cancer.) My point is: we ached. And we ached together.

We’re not those united humans, anymore. We’re about a gazillion aspects of our oneness, bursting into about a gazillion fragments of hate and pain and judgement. What might happen if we take a moment to remember just how beautiful we are, together? What might happen if we sat in our quiet for a few moments and just loved each other fully?

Currently, humanity is healing from about a billion years of collective shadow trauma, so the mature part of me wants to be kind to us as we vomit up all the nonsense we’ve shoved down for so long.

But there is another aspect of me who wants to shout at us for being dicks, and say: ‘Guys. We’re not getting it. We need to just stop and see the bigger picture.’

Meep.

Sorry for the cranky pants.

I suppose I might post a soft and fluffy poem on here tomorrow.

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Categories
Poetry

Heaven on Earth

I am the the trees and the wind.

Two melted into one:

Body and soul

travelling the pink lace road

of heaven on earth.

Categories
Poetry

Forgotten

So you’ve forgotten what it feels like

to unfold yourself,

to undress, her soul

in your hands

like the dream

she was always meant to be

for you.

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Categories
Life

Quite Frankly

What is love, you might wish to know.

Love,

quite frankly,

is you.

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Open. Release.

But did they give you a box of darkness?

Or was the darkness

already inside of you.

Waiting for someone to press:

open.

And release.